


Black and Blue

by WolfToothed



Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Canon Divergance, Character Death, Dom/sub, Gore, Hair-pulling, Love Triangles, M/M, Male Slash, Multi, Rough Sex, Slash, Slow Burn, Violence, au where silencer isn't champion of cyrodiil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-19 18:30:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13129533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfToothed/pseuds/WolfToothed
Summary: It all starts with revenge. He didn't know what to expect upon killing someone. He didn't expect a family. He didn't expect Lucien Lachance.





	1. Breathe Underwater

Through the dark and snowy city of Bruma moved a small and lithe Bosmer, sticking to the shadows and avoiding detection as guards passed. When he came upon a decent sized house, he quickly rounded on the door, crouching and plucking a lockpick from his belt and sticking it into the lock. Working swiftly, he pushed the tumblers of the lock into place until the door gave a satisfied ‘click’. Quietly, he opened the door, and welcomed himself inside the wood elf slipped through the shadows of the house, green gaze fixed upon his prey. Glass dagger in hand, he narrowed his eyes, clenching his teeth. His prey sat down before the fireplace, a troubled look upon his features. As he slowly relaxed, the Bosmer crept closer, until he was crouched directly behind the chair. With one fluid movement, he rose, bringing his arm around the front of the chair and across the unsuspecting victim’s neck. Crimson instantly streamed from the deep cut across the older man’s throat, and a gargled gasp of surprise escaped him. Struggling to turn in his chair to see the face of his attacker, darker green eyes widened when he saw the perpetrator. 

“J… Julien…” came the choked whisper. 

Julien walked around to the front of the chair, a furious scowl upon his lips as his father watched him. Then, before his father could struggle out another word, he let out a shout as he lunged forward with his dagger, sinking it deep into the older Bosmer’s chest. Eyes wide and terrified, they stared at Julien’s livid expression until the light faded from them. Julien pulled it out and gave another stab into the dead man’s chest, then another, and another, as tears began streaming from his vibrant green eyes. 

It was over.

It was finally over.

\---

The young Bosmer slunk into his house in Bravil after weeks of travel from Bruma. His shoulders slumped as he pulled himself into his bedroom and quickly undid his leather armor, setting his glass dagger on the bedside table in the process. Stepping into the washroom, he quickly ran a hand over his red dreadlocked hair, pulling it out of a ponytail and sighing as he looked at his reflection in the small and cracked mirror. Reaching into the water basin, he splashed the cold water on his face, sighing as he straightened and wiped himself off with the ragged hand towel on the counter. He ran a hand across his throat, over the thick and ugly scar that ran horizontally beneath his adam’s apple. Clenching his teeth at the surge of anger, he drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes, shaking his head. Turning back, he made his way into his bedroom, a heavy weariness sinking into his bones. In his underclothes, he pulled his comforter aside and slunk into bed, bundling up beneath the covers with a shaky sigh. As soon as he closed his eyes, he fell into a deep sleep. 

\---

An unnatural chill awoke him from sleep, and he bolted up to see a figure sitting at the end of his bed in a criss-crossed position. A hooded man watched him with dark brown eyes, arms crossed. Then the Imperial’s lips parted, and he spoke in a low and rich voice that brought a chill over Julien’s skin.

‘’You sleep rather soundly for a murderer,”

Julien bolted forward and towards the man with animalistic speed, tackling him off the bed and sending them both to the floor. The larger man gave a low grunt at the impact as his back collided with the floor, and Julien went to wrap his hands around the intruder’s neck. It proved much harder than he anticipated, as his invader was obviously very skilled in combat, and, well, an entire foot taller than Julien. The Imperial had quickly turned the tide, rolling Julien over and placing him between his body and the floor. Large hands took his wrists and brought them over his head, hopping on top of him and straddling his waist, his strong legs pinning the small Bosmer’s own against the ground.  
Julien snarled as he struggled to move, heart pounding in his chest as he looked up and towards his attacker. The man’s hood had fallen, revealing dark brunet hair pulled back and into a ponytail. Strands has escaped during their fight, hanging over his face as he panted at the fight Julien had put up. 

"You’ve certainly got fight in you,” came a breathless chuckle from the stranger hovering over him, and Julien simply glared, nostrils flared as he breathed deeply and clenched his teeth. Julien gave a jerk, and the Imperial tightened his vice-like grip on his thin wrists. Each breath the man took, Julien could feel due to their chests being pressed together. Julien would have scrambled for his knife had he any ability to move, but with the man’s full weight upon him, he was powerless. There was also the fact that he was in his underclothes and vulnerable to injury. The Bosmer gave another sharp-toothed snarl, eyes narrowed as he stared up at his attacker, whose face was right before his own. 

He smelled of old parchment and nightshade and apples. Julien took a deep breath to settle himself, clenching his teeth before deciding to speak.  
“Who are you? What do you want from me?’ he growled, shifting his wrists uncomfortably under the other man’s grip. A smile then came to the Imperial’s lips, dark eyes holding Julien’s. “I am Lucien Lachance; Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood,” he spoke, and the vibration of his deep voice rumbled from his chest and against Julien’s. A shudder coursed through him, and a low chuckle left Lucien. 

“As for what I want… I have a proposition for you. From the fire I’ve witnessed inside of you, you would do well in our… family,” he added on, and Julien untensed ever so slightly, watching Lucien’s gaze. He breathed heavily at the word ‘family’, and clenched his teeth before releasing. “I’d be more willing to discuss this without you on top of me,” Julien grumbled, and Lucien narrowed his eyes for a moment, reading the wood elf’s expression. After a moment, he let go of Julien’s wrists. Then he slid off of him, standing to his full height and holding out a hand to help Julien to his feet. With a bitter expression, Julien ignored the offered hand, pulling himself to his feet on his own. His eyes darted towards his dagger for but a moment, and Lucien caught the movement. 

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” he warned, voice low and dangerous. Julien was silent for a moment before heaving a sigh and folding his arms across his chest. He then looked up to meet the much taller man’s eyes, raising a brow irritably. “Very well. Surely there’s a catch. You wouldn’t invite a random person to join your… family… without a catch,” he bit, and Lucien gave a nod of confirmation. “You’re right, but it won’t be any problem for someone like you,” he noted, lifting a gloved hand to smooth back his tousled hair. “You have already impressed me; most couldn’t get me on the ground, and none as fast as you did,” Lucien added on, and Julien sniffed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” he snapped, and Lucien shook his head. “Not flattery. Honesty,” Lachance corrected him, and Julien pursed his lips. 

“Get on with it, then. What’s the catch?” he inquired curtly. Lucien gave a small smile. “On the Green Road to the north of Bravil lies the Inn of Ill Omen. There you will find a man named Rufio. Kill him, and your initiation into the Dark Brotherhood will be complete. Do this, and the next time you sleep in a location I deem secure, I will reveal myself once more, bearing the love of your new family,” he finished, and Julien was silent, holding his gaze while he thought over the offer. It was… tempting. To be part of something… of a… family. Or perhaps he was being too hopeful. Maybe they were nothing more than simple blood thirsty murderers. It was foolish to hope for a family, for a connection…  
Lucien frowned at Julien’s silence, then reached into his robes and presented a blade, ebon with gold filigree, to Julien. “Please accept this token from the Dark Brotherhood. It is a virgin blade, and thirsts for blood. May it serve you well, as does your silence,” he murmured, and Julien reached out, taking the dagger by the handle and out of Lucien’s gloved hand. His gaze surfed over the blade, taking in its beauty.

“Now, I bid you farewell. I do hope we’ll meet again soon,” came Lachance’s deep voice, and as Julien looked up, Lucien lifted his hood, gave a smile… and vanished from sight. Julien stiffened, the silence suddenly hitting him hard as he looked around the room for Lucien. 

Nothing. 

Julien looked back to the blade in his hand, turning it over with a deep breath. Clenching his teeth, he looked to his leather armor tossed in the corner.  
“Damn it all,” he growled, making his way towards his armor. Quickly donning it all, he tucked the Blade of Woe and his glass dagger into his belt. Then, pulling his dreads back into a ponytail, he made his way out of his home and towards the North Gate. His destination…

The Inn of Ill Omen.


	2. Plasticine

It was still early, as the sun hadn’t risen yet. Stars shone overhead, and from the position of the moon, it seemed to be about four in the morning. There were a few guards out on patrol, but they said nothing to him as he passed through the gate and outside the city walls. Julien began at a fast pace towards the Inn, eagerness and trepidation coursing through him. He’d heard many things about the Dark Brotherhood, but he’d never expect it to be more than simple murderers. If that’s what they turned out to be, would he be able to live with killing a complete stranger? Was he really going to kill this Rufio just on the chance to connect with people? But then the thrill of the kill also enticed him… Killing hi He huffed, but despite these thoughts, he didn’t stop nor did he slow. 

Time seemed to pass all too quickly with these thoughts coursing through his mind, for the Inn of Ill Omen quickly entered his vision. It was when he approached the door did he hesitate, hand wrapped around the knob. With one deep breath, standing before his destination, his decision was made. It was worth the risk if he could actually belong somewhere.

Stepping inside, the smell of bread and ale greeted him. Looking up, a Nord stood behind the counter of the inn. Julien made his way forward, towards the man who greeted him with a friendly smile. At the counter, he leaned against it, looking around the inn. “Is there a man named Rufio here?” he inquired, and the Nord raised a brow, folding his arms. “Rufio? He’s an old codger. Been living here a couple of weeks now. If you ask me, he’s hiding for something. But what do I care? He pays his tab,” he answered, and Julien gave a contemplative nod at his words. 

“Where would I find him?” he added on, and the Nord motioned with his head near the front door, where a small trap door lay. Julien gave a nod, moving off the counter and making his way towards the trap door. Opening it, the hinges creaked slightly. It revealed a short ladder down into the basement, and he descended the ladder quickly, closing the door behind him. 

Once in, he could hear soft and wheezing breaths in the far room. Walking down the hall, anticipation flooded his veins. Rounding the corner, he saw the man sleeping in his bed. He looked very… frail… As he stepped forward, a board beneath his foot creaked, and Rufio’s eyes snapped open. He bolted up as fast as his body allowed him to, rising to his feet with nervous eyes.  
“Who are you? What do you want? I ain’t done nothin’!” he proclaimed, but the fear in his eyes betrayed his words. With a frown at the gut feeling Julien got, he stepped forward. “Oh, but you have… Why else would you be so nervous?” Julien egged him on, watching as Rufio’s eyes darted back and forth. “No! Please! I didn’t mean to do it, you understand me? She struggled…! I… I told her to just stay still, but she wouldn’t listen! I had no choice!” he cried out, old voice wavering. Disgust and anger filled Julien at his words, utter repulsion filling him as he snarled at the man. 

Quickly drawing the Blade of Woe, he lunged forward. Rufio didn’t even have time to shout as the blade sunk between his ribs. Looking up and into his foggy blue eyes, Julien curled his lip up in disgust. He twisted the blade between Rufio’s ribs, watching as pain filled his expression, a silent scream on his face. 

“You’ll suffer for what you did, you bastard,” the Bosmer snarled, pulling the blade out and quickly sinking it into his gut. A soft of pain left him then, and then… He went limp. Disappointment and bitterness struck Julien at his fast death, and he pulled his knife from his corpse at it fell back and against the bed. Curling his lip, he spat on the corpse, clenching his fist. Turning on his heel, he flicked the blood off of the Blade of Woe, and slipped it back into his belt. Stepping out, he locked the door behind him, closing it then sticking a lockpick inside. With a sharp jerk and a snap, he broke the pick inside the lock, jamming it shut. With that, he then made his way back out, climbing out of the basement.

“How’s he doin?” came the innkeeper’s voice, and Julien glanced towards him, and gave a smile. “He’s fine; just didn’t want to be bothered,” he spoke in a saccharine voice. The Nord simply nodded, and before he could say any more, Julien had opened the door and made his way out. Once outside, he set off back towards Bravil, excitement hastening his steps. 

 

Once he passed through the gates of Bravil, he quickly made his way to his small home, hurrying inside. It was merely seven in the morning, and upon that realization, he gave a groan. He’d have to pass the time somehow… Stepping into his restroom, he placed his bloodied blade into the water and quickly scrubbed it with his rag, then pulled it out and gazed upon it once more, admiring its beauty. It had tasted blood, and he felt a faint sense of satisfaction. If only he’d been able to use it on his monster of a father… Hooking it back to his belt, he then turned, and made his way back outside. 

Once outside, he slowly walked throughout the ragged town of Bravil. Making his way towards the Lonely Suitor Lodge, he thought to get himself a nice mug of ale. Stepping inside, he made his way towards the bar, sitting one seat away from the right of a Dunmer, in matching burgundy clothes, that was nursing his drink. “Ale,” he stated simply to the barkeep, who responded with a quick nod. Glancing over at the Dunmer, the other man was quick to meet his gaze, giving a distasteful expression of which Julien stiffened. “What’s your problem?” he snapped, lip curled in a snarl. Then, the dark elf’s red eyes surfed over him, forming a sharp reply until his eyes paused at Julien’s waist, widening ever so slightly for a moment before looking back to Julien’s eyes. 

“That dagger… it’s very nice,” the Dunmer complimented, and Julien rose a brow in slight surprise. “Oh, ah… thanks,” Julien struggled out, not quite expecting the man who had just been glaring at him to compliment his weaponry. The Dunmer nodded, then after a moment of hesitation, scooted over to the bar stool next to Julien. He gave a nod to the barkeep and held up two fingers. “Next one’s on me,” the dark elf offered, and Julien bit back a sharp reply, telling himself to be nice for once. “Ah, that’s… kind of you,” Julien countered, then cleared his throat once more, swishing his ale in his mug. 

“Julien Bo,” the Bosmer offered, and the Dunmer gave a nod. “Alval Uvani,” he informed him. Julien nodded, raising his brow as the barkeep brought out two glasses of red wine. “What type is this?” he inquired, and Alval gave a smile. “Surilie Brothers Vintage 399,” he stated, and Julien’s eyes widened. “You really didn’t have to,” the Bosmer noted, though as he lifted the glass and brought it to his lips, he gave an appreciative hum at the exquisite flavor that tingled his tongue. He never had enough septims to buy anything so nice. He worked as a hunter, selling pelts and bones. It didn’t bring in much, and a good haul wasn’t always guaranteed. Alval must have a good job to be able to purchase two glasses of such expensive wine…

“What brings you to Bravil? I haven’t seen you here before, and I live here,” Julien brought up, and Alval took a drink before setting it back down on the counter, fingers holding the dainty stem of the glass. “Work. You know how it is,” he said with a motion towards the dagger at Julien’s hip, crimson gaze considering the sanguine wine before he took another sip. Julien furrowed his brow for a moment before it dawned on him, and he had to stifle his surprise. This Alval was with the Brotherhood. He must have recognized the Blade of Woe… Julien took another drink of wine as he contemplated, draining the glass halfway before he set it back down. Alval chuckled at him, meeting his gaze. “You’re supposed to savor it,” he spoke bemusedly and Julien shook his head.

They sat and talked awhile longer. Alval was a Cyrodiil native, never having been out of the province. He was allergic to honey, liked Surilie Brothers Wine much better than Tamika’s, and apparently disliked everyone outside of ‘work’. 

It felt nice to just chat with someone. He usually gave anyone who tried to talk to him the cold shoulder; he wasn’t one for people. He wouldn’t have even given Alval half a mind if he hadn’t mentioned the dagger. The dagger Lucien gave him… Having it felt like a lucky charm. As for Lucien… he wasn’t sure how he felt about him. He was still a little sour about losing their tussle, and he didn’t know enough about him to form an opinion. Alval seemed a decent enough sort despite being a murderer, but then again… wasn’t he a murderer now, too? The word excited and terrified him. Taking a deep breath, he cleared the thought from his mind.

“Well,” Julien began, taking his wine and downing the rest in one swig before setting the glass back down, “I’ve got an important meeting tonight. I need to prepare,” he informed him, and Alval gave a hum of acknowledgement. “I understand. If you’re ever in Leyawiin, on Sundas, I’m always home then. Perhaps I’ll see you during work,” he offered, and Julien gave a slow nod and a small smile. “Thanks for the invite, I’ll have to take you up on it sometime,” Julien responded, rising to his feet then setting what few septims he had on the counter for a tip. “I’ll see you around, Alval,” Julien said softly, and Alval gave a short smile. “Yeah, see you ‘round,”

Julien left Alval to his drink, working his way to the door and heading out. Looking to the sky, he gave a sigh of impatience. About nine in the morning. Waiting was going to be the death of him. Setting out with bow and arrow, he made his way outside of the city to hunt. It always passed time quickly. He merely hoped he’d be able to focus enough to actually get something. 

\---

Julien came back into town at dusk, empty handed and irritable. He’d almost gotten a nice buck if it hadn’t been for a bandit. He took the Blade of Woe to the bandit, and his death was not quick. It thrilled Julien, and he still wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He felt guilt, and excitement, and shame, and pride in his strength… Maybe one day he’d have it figured out. Damned ambivalence.

The good thing though, was that he was utterly exhausted. His legs ached from tracking the buck over three miles, and then from his fight with the bandit, his muscles were sore. Working his way into his house, he worked his way to his bedroom and stripped his armor off, sweaty from the humid air and heat. He rinsed himself off in his basin, using his cheap soap that smelled like old linen (it was better than nothing), and then slipped on his underclothes, plus black trousers and a tunic. He’d rather Lucien not catch him in his underclothes again. 

Clean and somewhat decent smelling, Julien plopped down into bed, a heavy sigh leaving him as he pulled his hair down. Laying back, green eyes stared at the ceiling. He had no regrets killing Rufio; the monster deserved it. But the biggest thing that troubled him was how much he enjoyed it. Feeling someone’s life just drain from them, watching the light leave their eyes… It made him feel so strong, so in control; it was intoxicating. With these troubled thoughts, he slipped to sleep, praying that he would find answers to this dilemma.


	3. Scene of the Crime

Julien awoke with a familiar chill, opening bleary eyes to see Lucien standing beside his bed. Sitting up quickly he cleared his throat, stifling a yawn as he ran a hand over his red dreadlocks. “How long have you been here?” Julien asked, low voice rumbly with sleep. “Not long at all,” Lucien answered vaguely, and Julien gave a huff, quickly uncovering and criss-crossing his legs as he looked to Lucien. 

“I received word that Rufio lies dead, and now, your Initiation is complete, you are now welcome to join our family. We welcome you with open arms,” Lucien spoke warmly, and again, indecision struck at his core. 

“The Dark Brotherhood…” Julien began, and a smile found Lucien’s lips. “Have you not heard of the Dark Brotherhood? Of the remorseless guild of paid assassins and homicidal cutthroats? Join us, and you’ll find the Dark Brotherhood to be all that, and so much more. We are, more than anything, a union of like-minded individuals. We kill for profit, for enjoyment, and for the glory of the Dread Father Sithis. We are family, with bonds forged in blood and death,”

His words struck Julien, and took a deep breath. “For enjoyment…” Julien murmured, and a low chuckle from Lucien caught his attention, and he frowned, bristling slightly. “Julien, my dear friend, yes. I, for one, greatly enjoy taking the lives of others. I hold no shame in it, and neither should you. In our family, we understand, and we will not judge you, of that, I promise you,” Lucien assured him, and with that, his decision was made. Julien rose to his feet, looking up at the taller man. The dim light from the window highlighted the contours of Lucien’s face, from his sharp jawline to his high cheekbones, and the stubble that lined his jaw. He was, undeniably, very handsome. And now… he was being welcomed into a new family by Lucien Lachance. Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood.

“Alright,” Julien began, “I will. I’ll join your family,” he spoke resolutely, and a smile came upon Lucien’s handsome face. “I’m very pleased to hear this answer, someone like you will fit in with us very well,” he hummed, and then he clasped his hands together, holding Julien’s eyes. “In Cheydinhal, you will find an abandoned house. Enter it, and proceed to the basement. There, you will find a door. You will be asked a question, and you must answer; ‘Sanguine, my brother,’. Then, you will be granted entry,” Lucien instructed him, and Julien gave a nod of understanding. 

“We must now take our leave of each other, you and I, for there is much work to be done. I’ll be following… your progress. Welcome to the family,”

Julien watched as Lucien gave one last smile, and then, like the previous night… He disappeared from view.

\---

The trip to Cheydinhal took longer than he would have liked. He was eager, he was nervous, he was ready. It was night when he entered the city, and it didn’t take him long to find the house on his own., The door was boarded up rather poorly, and all he had to do was pick the lock. It opened with a loud creak, and he slipped inside. It was dim, musty, and covered in cobwebs. Julien pushed forward, opening the door before him and proceeding further down, until the walls crumbled away and into a tunnel. Then, just as Lucien had said; he was presented with a door. Approaching the door, the Bosmer reached out, placing his palm flat against the cool stone of the door, and then a low voice rumbled all around him. 

**“What is the color of night?”**

“Sanguine, my brother,” Julien answered confidently. Then, the door moved beneath his hand, stone sliding against stone as it opened. As he stepped through it, his heart caught in his throat at the words that followed him.

**“Welcome Home,”**

As he looked up, a female Argonian approached him. His heart beat hard in his chest as she came close, yet her expression was… warm. Friendly, and she held a wrapped bundle in her arms. 

“Welcome to the family, Julien. I am Ocheeva, and I am glad to see you,” she began. Holding out the bundle, she gave a smile, “This is your armor, wear it with pride, for you are one of us,” she spoke kindly, and Julien took it from her, opening it quickly, struggling to hide his excitement. Uncovering the armor, he held it out as his eyes surfed over it. It was made of dark leather, beautifully crafted, and with the Black Hand upon the single shoulder pauldron. Looking to Ocheeva, he folded it loosely over his arm. “Thank you, Ocheeva. I’m… happy to be here,” he murmured, and she gave a sharp-toothed grin.

“And we are happy to have you, my brother. Everyone has been excited to meet you,” she smiled, and Julien looked around behind her. Sure enough, there were a few of the Brotherhood milling around, looking towards him or talking amongst themselves. Looking back to Ocheeva, he rolled his shoulders, taking a deep breath. “What are my duties, now that I am part of this family?” he inquired, and she motioned with her hand behind her. “You’ll want to speak to Vicente Valtieri. He will assign you your contracts. You will be rewarded handsomely for each completed contract, and there is also the possibility to earn bonuses if you follow the instructions,” she informed him, and he gave a nod of understanding.

“Very well, I will seek him out,” he spoke in reply, and as Ocheeva turned to leave, he stepped forward. “Wait… where is Lucien Lachance?” he inquired, and she turned back to him, giving a soft smile. “Lucien isn’t here very often. His duties with the Black Hand keep him very busy, and so he entrusts me to watch over the Sanctuary while he is away,” she replied, and he felt a slight tinge of disappointment; an odd feeling he didn’t quite understand. “And what of Alval Uvani?” he continued, and she raised her browline. “Alval? He’s Speaker for the Leyawiin sanctuary,” she informed him, and he gave a soft sigh. “Alright, thank you, Ocheeva. I won’t keep you any longer,” he finished, and she shook her head and gave a coarse chuckle. “My brother, it isn’t a problem. I am here to help you,” she happily countered, and he gave a small smile in response. 

Stepping passed her, he proceeded deeper into the Sanctuary, seeking out Vicente Valtieri. On his way to the room specified, he passed a Bosmer and Orc talking, and he caught a few words of their conversation, the Bosmer expression her affection towards the Orcs brutish enjoyment of mindlessly slaughtering. The anxiety in his heart quelled at this, as odd as it was. It was as Lucien said; they killed for profit, for enjoyment. He didn’t stand out at all. 

Further he went, down stairs and to a door to his left. Inside was a man with a book in his hand, his back to him. Julien cleared his throat, and the man quietly closed his book. Rising to his feet, he turned, and pale red eyes met Julien’s green ones. Julien’s eyes widened and he took a sharp breath, thought he man simply chuckled. “Please, do not let my appearance unnerve you. I would never hurt another member of our family,” he reassured Julien, then held out a hand. “Vicente Valtieri; a pleasure,” Julien accepted the gesture, giving the cold hand a shake before drawing his own back to himself.

“I hear I am to get my contracts from you,” Julien commented, and Vicente gave an affirming nod. “Yes, I have one for you now, if you are ready,” he spoke with cheer, and Julien didn’t hesitate as he responded, “I am,”

“Eager, are we?” Vicente noted, and Julien frowned, stiffening slightly. “Oh, I’m not making fun of you. In fact, I approve of your anticipation,” Vicente spoke softly, and Julien relaxed slightly, clenching and unclenching his jaw. “Alright,” Julien said after a moment, “What is this contract you have for me?”

\---

Crammed into a crate, though with room to spare thanks to his small size, Julien stayed still as he was carried onboard the ship. When he felt his crate stop moving, and the footsteps faded away, he pushed open the crate. Out he came, straightening his posture and stretching his limbs. He’d been in that crate for over an hour… Crouching, he made his way forward.

Reaching the cabin’s quarter was no problem, with only two pirates in his way. He dispatched of both quickly with the Blade of Woe, then continued up the ladder. As he came in, the captain of the ship stood. “What in blazes are you doing in here?” he snapped, and Julien didn’t justify a reply. Instead, he advanced with deadly speed, dagger drawn and face drawn in a snarl. He barely had time to bring up his cutlass and parry the attack, but as he did so, he created an opening. Pushing up his sword-wielding arm, he went under with the Blade of Woe, sinking it into his gut once, then twice, then three times. His green eyes were trained upon the captain’s expression of shock, watching him flinch each time he plunged the blade back into the flesh. He could feel the warm blood seeping onto his hand, and it only urged him on. With a low chuckle, he brought the blade up and into the captain’s throat. A strangled gurgle was all that escaped, and as he pushed the blade deeper, his body gave a violent jerk, then fell to the ground. His dagger slipped from his body as he fell, and he looked down at himself. 

Blood was visible against the dark leather of his Brotherhood armor, and the color excited him. It stained his hands and his chest and his blade, and looking down at the body of the captain, he took a deep breath at the feeling of power that surged through him. Then, he flinched out of his reverie as pounding came from the door, and a pirate called out for the captain.

 _‘Shit,’_ he thought to himself, _‘the bodies must’ve been discovered,’_ he realized, and looking around, he saw the door to the bow of the ship. He quickly made his way through the door, and was faced with no exit but through the water. Without hesitation, he leapt forward, and was embraced by cold as the seawater enveloped him. Breaking through the surface of the water, he gasped in air, treading water for a moment as he caught his breath before he began swimming away from the ship and towards shore. He could hear shouting behind him on the ship, and he felt humored at their panic. They wouldn’t find who had killed their precious captain. 

His first contract, finished without a hitch.

\---

Back at the Sanctuary in Cheydinhal, he was rewarded more than he’d ever gotten from one of his hunting hauls, and was given an enchanted band. With that, he headed to the sleeping quarters, weary from his travel to Cheydinhal, and from swimming for half a mile. 

Entering the sleeping quarters, he quickly stripped out of his armor, donning his black trousers and tunic, then sitting down and scrubbing his armor clean of the captain’s blood. Then, he looked up as the door creaked, and watched as Vicente entered the room, followed by a hooded figure. Julien sat up, straightening his posture. The two came over to him, and he swallowed hard as the taller man removed his hood. 

“I hear your first contract went very well,” Lucien commented with a smile, and Julien gave a curt nod. “Yeah, it went well,” he murmured, giving a nod. He knew his insecure feelings around Lucien were irrational, the man had given him no reason to distrust him. It was his own hang ups that would cause him problems, and that irritated him more than anything. He struggled to push these feelings aside as Lucien stepped closer, dismissing Vicente with a wave of his hand. The vampire gave a nod, turning on his heel and leaving the two to their own devices. 

“How did it feel? Your first kill for the Brotherhood?” Lucien inquired, and Julien looked up from scrubbing his armor. Lucien’s expression was sincere in his curiosity, and Julien decided to answer honestly. 

“It felt good. I felt strong. I felt in control. I felt alive,” he answered after a moment, and he watched Lucien’s expression for any sign of distaste of judgement. Instead, the Speaker simply smiled. “Yes, I remember my first kill for the Brotherhood. There surely is none other like it,” he purred, and the low timbre of his voice caused a shudder to course throughout Julien. 

“Surely you didn’t just come here to make small talk with me,” Julien snapped, and Lucien gave a short chuckle. “You are correct. I am here to see that the Sanctuary is in good order, but checking on how you were settling in was on my list,” Lucien answered, and Julien pursed his lips. Lucien watched his expression for a moment before leaning forward, causing Julien to lean back. Lucien chuckled, straightening his posture once more. 

“My dear brother; I will not hurt you unless you give me reason to,” he rumbled, then a frown came across his lips. “What has you so threatened by me?” he inquired, and Julien broke the eye contact, looking towards the armor in his hands. 

“It’s of no concern to you,” Julien growled. Before he knew what was happening, Lucien leaned in close to him, eyes unreadable. “Julien; it is of concern to me. You are in my Sanctuary, and if you have a problem with me, I would know of it,” he spoke, voice low with a dangerous edge. Before he knew what he was doing, Julien reached out and pushed him back, quickly rising to his feet. But Lucien was one step ahead of him, and before he could react, a hand was at his throat and he was pushed hard against the wall, the wind nearly being knocked from him. 

“Think carefully before you do that again,” growled Lucien, and then he frowned, pulling his hand back as Julien gave a small gasp, and looking to Julien’s throat. Right beneath his hand lay a thick and jagged scar. Letting go of his throat, he looked up to meet Julien’s eyes, realization dawning on his expression. “This… is why you have a problem with me. Whoever did this to you had power over you,” he deduced, and Julien clenched his teeth, nostrils flaring as he glared furiously at Lucien. “It’s none of your fucking business,” Julien snarled, and Lucien gave a sigh, the fighting fire leaving his expression. 

“You’re right. How you obtained it is none of my business. But how you treat me is. Know that I will not harm you without reason, and if you give me reason enough, you will not live to question my motives,” he threatened, expression cold. Julien drew in a deep breath, the anger slowly leaving his eyes as his shoulders slumped.

“…I was out of line,” Julien sighed, dropping his gaze.

“You were,” Lucien responded, but then he stepped forward, placing a hand on Julien’s shoulder. The shorter man looked up, meeting Lucien’s deep brown gaze. “But know that I never do anything without reason. I am Speaker, and you all are my family, and I will not take advantage of the trust that my family places in me,” he reassured Julien, and the wood elf swallowed hard as he held Lucien’s gaze. 

“….Alright. I apologize,” Julien sighed, and Lucien gave an accepting nod. “I am just… not used to this trust thing,” Julien added with a frown. Lucien frowned, taking his hand from Julien’s shoulder and furrowing his brow. “You will learn to trust your new family. You are one of us,” Lucien assured him, and Julien nodded. With that, Lucien took a step back, giving a sigh. 

“I must look over the Santuary, but if you wish to speak to me about this… situation, I am here until dawn tomorrow,” he offered, and Julien nodded, not meeting his gaze. Shame flooded him for his distrust, and it showed on his expression. Expecting Lucien to leave, he waited, and yet, the Speaker stood there still. He finally willed himself to look up, and to meet the Speaker’s gaze. 

“Julien. This troubles you, but know that I am here if you have need of me. As I said, you are my family. And I would die for my family,” he spoke, low and gentle.

“I’ve never had someone willing to die for me,” 

“That changes now,”


	4. Centrefolds

Five weeks had passed since his last conversation with Lucien, which ended on a better note than he’d thought it would due to his temper. Lucien’s words had touched him, thinking that someone would defend him with such vigor. He hoped it was true, but there was always that little part of him that said he wasn’t worth defending. Shaking his head, he gave a sigh as he approached the sewer grate. His new contract was to infiltrate the Imperial prison and put an end to Valen Dreth’s life, without ending the life of a single guard. He didn’t know the Dunmer, but he would fulfill the contract without a problem. As time had passed, he found his guilt falling away now. He was doing the work of the Night Mother, of Sithis. There was no reason for him to feel guilty. Coming back to himself, he dug the sewer key from his belt pouch. Slipping the key into the lock, the grate opened, and in he went.

The foul smell was the first thing to assault his senses, and he wrinkled his nose with a groan. He’d make his way to Dreth’s cell and be done with it. He had no problem being stealthy. It would be enduring the damned sewer smell that would be the biggest problem. Putting away his petty complaints, Julien pushed forward.

The sewers were a bit of a maze, with some doors needing to be opened by nearby gears. The occasional rat and mudcrab and goblin caused little trouble for him, but it was when he got into the actual prison that it got difficult. They had lit it well with torches, and guards patrolled every nook and cranny. Crouching in the doorway from the sewers, he could hear two guards talking. With a deep breath, he invoked the power of the Shadow, becoming invisible as his star sign did its work.

He moved as swiftly and quietly as he could throughout the prison, though he alerted a guard or two on his way to Dreth’s cell. The tunnels led him into a prison cell with the wall torn down, and he quickly ascended the incline and into the cell. Across from the cell was his target, as planned. Julien moved forward towards the cell. Crouching before it, he picked the lock, and the clicking of the tumblers alerted his target. It was then that the Shadow’s time came to an end, and he came into view. The Dunmer gave an audible gasp, crimson eyes widening as he looked to the Bosmer in dark leathers. 

“Who are you?! How’d you get in here?” Valen exclaimed, and Julien gave a deadly cold smile. “Sithis sends his regards,” he spoke frigidly, and swing the door open. Then, the worst thing that could have happened… happened.

 _“Guards! Assassin! Help!”_ Dreth cried out at the top of his lungs, and Julien cursed as he lunged forward, Blade of Woe and Sufferthorn in hand. Plunging both blades into either side of the Dunmer’s sides, between the forth and fifth ribs, and he gave a loud scream at the pain. Digging upwards with the Blade of Woe, he pushed the dagger towards the heart. With a choked cry, Dreth crumpled against him. 

The light of torches filled the cell as Julien pushed the corpse off of him, turning on his heel to see guards before the cell door. “Don’t let him escape!” shouted one, and Julien darted forward, slipping between the two guards at the door. He heard swords unsheathe, and he hastened his step, heart pounding in his throat. _’Now all the guards will be alerted to my presence,_ he realized, clenching his teeth. _’Damn Dreth! If he hadn’t screamed…’_

Rushing through the mildly familiar passageways, he could hear the heavy footsteps of guards chasing after him. He didn’t bother hiding from those on patrol, knowing that with the few already on his tail, he’d risk getting captured of he slowed his pace to hide. 

He was in the home stretch of the sewers when an Orc guard came around the corner, heavy mace in hand. The Orc snarled, lunging forward and swinging hard as Julien tried to duck around him. The mace contacted his left arm, and he gave a scream of pain as he felt his bone splinter and his skin tear from the impact. Falling to the ground from the blow, he looked up as the guard hovered over him, and he scrambled to get up, towards the grate that led into the sewers. A hand grabbed his ankle, and he kicked and flailed vigorously, clenching his teeth against the white-hot pain in his arm. Blood roared in his ears, and he nearly cried in relief when his kick hit home on the Orc’s face. He was released, and he used his good arm to push himself up and towards the sewer grate. Pulling it open with his good arm, he rushed down the hole as fast as he could, well aware of the guards swarming around the hole above him and working their way down the ladder. 

Hopping down once he was four feet from the ground, he began running as fast as he could, taking jumps when the distance was safe. Anything to create space between him and his pursuers. Hot blood seeped from his aching arm, the leathers torn and hanging from the impact of the mace from the Orc’s sheer strength. 

As he took the twists and turns of the sewers, the pounding footsteps became farther and farther off. When he saw the grate leading out into Lake Rumare, he pushed forward harder than he pushed before, lungs burning and muscles screaming. Pushing the gate open with his shoulder, he was home free.

Hopping down from the sewer drain, he collapsed as he hit the ground, and let out a yelp of pain as he fell onto his injured arm. As the throbbing in his arm assaulted him, and he could still hear footsteps in the sewers behind, he found himself praying.

 _’Night Mother, Sithis, don’t let me die here,_ he found himself begging as he pulled himself to his feet, turning and heading along the shoreline at a running pace under the starlight. _I’ve just joined your family, don’t let me be taken from it,’_

He collapsed once more on a grassy hill, not even able to cry out in pain this time as he simply lay there in the swaying grasses. He could still feel his arm bleeding, and as he looked down on it, he fought the urge to vomit as he saw a white shard of bone sticking out of his forearm. Tears stung his eyes, and he felt so damned _helpless._ He felt so _afraid._ He wasn’t ready to die. He finally found a place where he belonged. Where he fit in. He wasn’t ready, but as dark tendrils curled around the corners of his vision, his heart beat hard and tears sprung from his emerald eyes. 

With a shaking breath, Julien turned to the starry night sky, and darkness embraced him.


	5. Ashtray Heart

When he opened his eyes, he was in a dark room illuminated by candle light. Undressed and under a warm comforter, he was almost content to pretend he was back at in the Sanctuary and to just go back to sleep, as exhausted as he was. It smelled musty and damp, like underground, but not quite like the Sanctuary. There was a hint of…  
Nightshade.

Sitting up a little too quickly, he gave a gasp at the pain that seared through his left arm. Looking back down to it, his eyes widened to see it bandaged. His loose dreads fell about his shoulders, as he sat there, and he began looking around. He was in a single bed in a corner, and the large room seemed to have all the essentials for one person to live there. Then, as his eyes found a table, there stood a figure, hands braced against the table. His hood was drawn, but Julien already knew who it was. 

“Lucien; where are we?” he spoke up, and the Imperial turned, expression quiet as he set down what he was working on and made his way over to the bed where Julien rested. “This is my home; Fort Farragut. Near Cheydinhal. It isn’t much, but it has what I need,” Lucien stated, then stepped closer, reaching out and gently touching a gloved hand to Julien’s bandaged arm. “You’ll need to see a proper healer, potions and stitching can only mend so much,” he added on, and Julien furrowed his brow, looking down at his arm. It still hurt immensely, but nowhere near as bad as it was. Then the fact that the bone wasn’t sticking out of it any longer was a very big plus. 

“Who found me?” Julien asked, and Lucien gave a smile. “I did. I told you I would follow your progress. Had I not been nearby, shock and blood loss would have been your doom,” Lucien stated, and Julien swallowed hard, bare shoulders slumping as he dropped his gaze. “And you brought me all the way here… Why? There are so many members of the Dark Brotherhood, surely you’ve no need to waste resources on low-ranking members such as myself,” he tried to understand, and frowned as he heard Lucien sigh. He looked back up, watching as the tall Imperial folded his arms across his chest. 

Lucien was now silent, gaze quiet. “To be honest with you, we do not usually do such things for those injured on contracts. As for why I did…” Lucien trailed off suddenly, then gave a heavy sigh. “It is of no matter. What does matter is that you have sustained a serious injury. One that will require you to take a break from contracts to heal,” Lucien ordered, and Julien sat up further, a frown upon his lips. 

“You can’t be serious, I can still fight,” insisted the Bosmer, to which Lucien gave a disdainful sniff. “No, you can’t. Were I to try, I would be able to kill you without injury to myself,” the Speaker told him, to which Julien gave a sneer, then parted his lips for a sharp reply. The glare Lucien gave him shut him up fast, and he gave a heavy sigh, the argumentative spite leaving him. He leaned back against the pillow, the covers of the bed pooled around his bare waist. As he looked back to Lucien, he found the man’s eyes straying over his form, an odd look in his gaze. Suddenly, the Bosmer felt very self-conscious. His cheeks flushed as he shifted uncomfortably, and Lucien’s brown eyes flicked back up to him. The interest on his face was quickly wiped away, and he put on his usual rather unnerving smile.

“I will escort you back to your home in Bravil. One month off from performing contracts,” Lucien spoke, and Julien gave a resigned sigh, though his mind strayed to other thoughts. Why was Lucien looking at him in such a way? His heart beat oddly fast in his chest, and his face felt hot. 

“I’ll leave you to get ready,” Lucien stated, and as he turned, Julien sat up. “Lucien… what do you want from me?” he inquired, eyes narrowed. Lucien looked over his shoulder, placing his trademark smile upon his lips. “Dear Brother, I want nothing from you,” he replied, though the answer didn’t satisfy Julien. He knew there was something going through the Speaker’s mind. 

“You’re lying,” Julien accused, and the Speaker quickly rounded on the wood elf, who shrunk back from the sudden glare. “Leave. It. Be.” he growled, and then a fire grew in Julien’s chest, and he leaned forward, glaring right back at Lucien. 

“What is it? What do you want from me that makes you follow my progress, that makes you _carry_ me here to ensure that I stay alive? You’ve got money, you’ve got power, what could I possibly-“ Julien’s words were taken from him as Lucien suddenly advanced, large hands taking him by his thin shoulders and pushing him hard back against the mattress and climbing atop him. Julien let out a gasp of pain at the shift in his arm, and as he opened his eyes, he found Lucien’s face mere inches from his own, a fire burning in those rich brown eyes.

“You don’t know when to shut up,” snarled Lucien, who’s grip on his shoulders tightened. Lucien’s gaze surfed over Julien’s defiant expression and conflict filled the Speakers angry expression. 

“And you don’t know when to give a fuckin’ answer,” Julien retorted, and a gasp escaped him as one of Lucien’s hands left his shoulder and wrapped around his throat. His grip wasn’t tight, but it wasn’t gentle. Just as Julien prepared to fight, the unexpected happened.

Lucien’s lips crashed hungrily against his, and his eyes widened at the contact. Then, Julien found himself closing his eyes and returning the Speaker’s fervor. The gloved hand at his throat tightened ever so slightly, and the other hand slid down his chest. Julien let out a small moan into the kiss, and he felt a growl reverberate from Lucien’s chest, and the hand on his chest slid lower.

Julien found himself reacting to the touches, heat pooling in his belly and a certain body part stiffening at the contact. Lucien kissed him harder still, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and pulling before he leaned back, expression an enigma as he straddled Julien’s waist. He tore off his gloves, tossing them to the side, and pulling down his hood before he leaned back down. Without warning, Lucien slipped a hand beneath the covers, suddenly taking Julien’s cock into his hand and giving a firm stroke. Julien gasped, rolling his hips forward in Lucien’s hand. 

The Speaker captured his lips once more as he stroked the Bosmer’s quickly hardening cock, and Julien’s mouth opened against Lucien’s in a silent gasp. “L-Lucien-“ Julien stuttered out, only earning a growl in response. Then Lucien’s lips left his, and he watched as the Speaker sat back once more, undoing the belt on his robes and tossing it to the ground, then grabbing the hem and slipping the black, red-stained fabric over his head, revealing his form. 

Lachance was well muscled, with scars lining his taut physique here and there. His member was hard, and as he shifted to pull the comforter from under him and off of Julien, his cock throbbed at the sight of Julien. The wood elf lay beneath him, small and bruised and flushed, his own member, uncut, standing hard amongst a small patch of red pubic hair, leaking precum. Without speaking, Lucien moved off of him, then brought his hands on either side of Julien’s waist, and began to flip him over. Julien assisted, rolling himself over, bracing himself with his good hand. 

Then, Lucien’s fingers found his mouth, sliding around and getting nice and slick. Then, he pulled them out, and without warning, his spit-slicked fingers were prodding at Julien’s entrance. The tiny Bosmer gave a gasp as one finger slipped in and was quickly followed by another. Lucien began scissoring his fingers inside of Julien to prep him, and Julien rolled his hips at the touch, soft moans leaving his parted lips. 

As fast as they’d entered, Lucien’s fingers left him, and a hand pressed hard against his back, pushing him chest down against the mattress. That same hand then took a handful of his red dreaded hair, and then something much larger pressed against his entrance. Julien couldn’t hold back a gasp of pain and pleasure and Lucien’s thick length slowly slipped inside of him, and easily picked up a slow and steady pace. One hand in Julien’s hair, the other gripped his hip hard enough to bruise, nails digging into his fair flesh.

Slow and steady didn’t last long, however, and Lucien yanked back on Julien’s hair as he picked up speed, pounding into Julien’s tightness, right against his bundle of nerves. The Bosmer couldn’t hold back a scream of pleasure as he reached his climax. Then, Lucien’s pulled hard on Julien’s hair as he leaned over him and rammed deep into him, warmth filling Julien as Lucien came inside him with a snarled curse, hilting himself inside of Julien as he rode the roaring waves of his orgasm.

Both panting hard, Julien let out a whimper as Lucien pulled out of him. Julien ached all over from Lucien’s roughness, yet pleasure tingled him at every nerve. As he lay there, he expected Lucien to plop down beside him. Instead, he frowned as Lucien climbed off the bed and scooped up his robe, gloves, and belt. 

“What are you doing?” Julien inquired breathlessly, and Lucien looked over his shoulder, expression unreadable. “Getting dressed. I suggest you clean yourself up so we can leave for Bravil,” Lucien spoke without emotion, though his low voice was breathy from exertion. 

“Wait, that’s it? You fuck me and act like it’s nothing?” Julien bit offendedly, rolling over and sitting up. Lucien looked away from him as he slipped on his robe, and looped the belt around his waist. Pulling on his black gloves, he finally spoke. 

“It was sex. Nothing more,” Lucien replied coldly, and it struck Julien hard, and his shoulders slumped. Lucien didn’t look at him. Julien slipped himself out of bed to find his armor beside the bed as well as a flax tunic and black trousers. Julien quickly pulled on the clothes, hurt and anger flooding his being as he remained silent. 

“You’re a bastard,” Julien growled at Lucien’s back, and the Speaker did not speak. He began moving towards a ladder, and Julien gave a heavy sigh as he followed Lachance. He followed him up the ladder, finding himself coming out through a steel trap door in a hollowed-out tree trunk. Once out, he stepped back as Lucien covered it with leaves and twigs. 

“It’s around eight. I will take you to the road, then I must depart. If you move fast, you will reach Bravil by sundown,” Lucien stated casually, and that only hurt Julien more. He was acting as if nothing had just taken place. Shaking his head and clenching his teeth, the Bosmer followed him.

Getting to the road took a lot longer than was comfortable, the silence eating away at Julien. Was that what he’d wanted? Just sex? It hurt to be used so nonchalantly. He didn’t voice this hurt however, letting it brew inside of him bitterly. Upon reaching the road, Julien turned to Lucien, emerald eyes dark as he looked up at the taller man. Something flashed in Lucien’s gaze, and a flicker of hope flitted through Julien’s chest. 

“Remember, one month. After that time has passed, I expect you to return to the Cheydinhal Sanctuary,” Lucien reminded him, and he grit his teeth before giving a curt nod. “Yeah, I get it,” Julien snapped, and a brief look of hurt flashed across Lucien’s features before quickly being covered with nonchalance. Julien relished the look of pain he brought Lachance as he turned, making his way southward.

One month. That would be enough time to get over Lucien Lachance. 

He hoped.


	6. Second Sight

Sleeping in his home in Bravil had never felt so lonely. 

Julien had grown accustomed to sleeping in the Cheydinhal sanctuary, the soft breathing of his sleeping brothers and sisters a comfort to him. Now, the only sound was the rain outside, the storm battering his small home. Julien rolled over, taking a deep breath as he looked to his unbandaged arm. The stitch work where the bone had broken the skin was clean and thanks to a healer he’d seen from the Bravil Mages’ Guild, it barely even hurt. She recommended keeping the stitches in for at least a month due to the nature of the wound. Though, the stitches served as a reminder that Lucien Lachance had shown some amount of compassion towards him.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Julien sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He’d visit the Lonely Suitor Lodge, get a nice drink of ale. A lot of ale. And perhaps he’d see Alval. Seeing anyone from his family would comfort the pain that bubbled in his chest. He pulled on his light brown linen trousers and his shirt with suspenders, preparing himself for the early night’s rain. Slipping on his shoes, he rounded the corner out of his bedroom, and headed outside. 

The rain was heavy, and wetting his long red dreads and streaming down his skin in small rivulets. The walk to the Lonely Suitor seemed to take forever, and when he finally saw its sign swaying in the wind, he picked up his pace to the door, quickly making his way up the steps and into the establishment.

Closing the door behind him, goosebumps rose along his arms at the sharp contrast in temperature, the fire crackling loudly inside the Lonely Suitor. Dripping from the rain, he shook himself off before, glancing at the bar and seeing a hooded figure sitting there. Thinking against sitting beside the stranger, he turned, approaching the fire place and sitting before it. He looked up as the waitress approached him, he gave a nod to her as she inquired if he wanted anything. As he parted his lips to speak, another voice interrupted him after the door opened and shut once more.

“Two bottles of Surilie's 399, I’ll share with him,” came the familiar voice, and he twisted himself to turn and look. Approaching him was Alval Uvani, wearing a maroon cloak with the hood drawn. Julien watched as the Dunmer slid off his hood, and gave a wave of his hand. “We’ll take it in my room,” he added on to the waitress, who gave an understanding nod. Alval waited quietly, shooting a death glare towards two Argonian’s the begun whispering amongst themselves not-so-quietly about the Dunmer and the Bosmer. As they waited for the waitress, Julien’s eyes flicked over to the hooded stranger at the bar, the man sitting with impeccable posture, drink in hand. Then, the waitress returned, bottles in hand. Taking them from her, Uvani instructed her to just place it on his tab, then he turned on his heel. Alval’s crimson gaze slipped back to Julien, and motioned with his head to follow. 

Julien rose from his seat before the fireplace, and followed the Leyawiin Speaker up to his room. Alval opened the door, holding it for the Bosmer to enter before he shut it, turning the lock before finally relaxing his stiff posture. Julien waited silently and somewhat nervously as Alval removed his cloak, draping it over the bedpost before he finally gave his attention to Julien.

“You are based in the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, correct?” he inquired, an odd edge to his voice as he took one of the bottles of wine, popping the cork out pouring it in one of the few glasses left in his room. Julien gave a nod, and Alval’s gaze traveled to him before pouring another glass from the first bottle. Setting it down, he did not pick up either glass yet, turning to face Julien with narrowed eyes. 

“When we first met, you were merely a recruit to the Brotherhood. But you’ve risen fast, completed many contracts, and gained the rank of Assassin. I’m impressed, but I still question your motives, your loyalty. You have not earned my trust in this family, and know that I’m watching you,” Alval warned, and Julien frowned, brows furrowed in confusion.

“What’s brought this on, Alval? I have followed my contracts to the letter, I have not questioned orders,” Julien insisted, and Alval gave pause, then a sigh followed as he lifted his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. Shaking his head, he finally lifted his own glass of wine, taking a heavy drink, downing the whole glass before he set it down. 

“You’re supposed to savor it,” Julien attempted to joke, but Alval seemed unamused as he poured another glass, then looked back to Julien. “I have no reason to be skeptical of you, and I… apologize,” he spoke slowly and begrudgingly. Leaning himself against the counter with one hand, he looked over Julien, gaze lingering on his injured arm.

“What happened there?” he inquired, changing the topic. Julien gave a sigh as images of Lucien flashed through his mind as he looked down at the stitch-work on his arm, then looked back to Alval. “Contract gone south, got injured pretty badly,” Julien responded, and Alval stepped closer, holding out his hand. Julien lifted his arm and Alval took it gently, his hand hovering over the arm a moment before a frown came upon his lips.

“The stitching is good, but the bone itself is still fractured. Whoever _attempted_ to heal the bone did a lousy job,” he sniffed haughtily. Then, without speaking, blue light emanated from his hand as he moved it along the arm, and Julien winced as he felt the bone inside his arm literally shifting and mending back together. After a few moments, the glow faded from Alval’s palm. “Let me grab a knife and remove the stitches, they aren’t necessary now,” the Dunmer spoke, and Julien gave a hesitant nod, which caught Alval’s attention, giving him pause. 

“Do you want to keep the stitches?” he asked with confusion, brows furrowed. Julien then quickly shook his head, a quiet anger and hurt in his eyes. “No, I want them gone,” he said quickly, and Uvani watched him a moment longer before turning and rifling through the drawers of the dresser.

“I keep all of my things here. They never rent this room to anyone else, so it’s home away from home. That also means it has everything I need,” Uvani informed Julien, pulling a sharp silver knife from the bottom of the dresser drawer, then approaching him once more. Taking his arm this time instead of waiting for permission, Alval began sliding the knife under the stitching, cutting the lacing and plucking out the threads as he went along the arm. Beneath it lay a freshly healed (thanks to Alval’s spell) pink scar. Once finished, Alval turned and dumped the thread pieces from his hand into the waste bin, then tucked the knife back into his drawer beneath all of his clothes. 

Finally, he grabbed the second glass of wine, turning and handing it to Julien. Julien took it gratefully, pausing as he looked down into the sanguine liquid. Julien then took a slow drink from the glass, letting the taste flow over his senses in an attempt to soothe his troubled thoughts. Opening his eyes, he found Uvani watching him, and he rose a brow in question. 

“What’s troubling you?” Alval asked, and Julien bristled slightly. “I could ask the same of you, what with you questioning my motives,” Julien retorted hotly, and Alval gave a glare. “My concern is for the safety of our Brotherhood, and while I should not question Lachance’s judgement on you, I can’t help it,” he spoke, and then frowned as he saw Julien’s expression falter at the mention of Lucien. 

“What? Do you have a problem with your Speaker?” Alval asked, slight hostility in his voice. Julien sat back, quickly holding up a hand. “It isn’t what you think, I swear, it’s… complicated,” Julien hastily replied, to which Alval gave an incredulous snort. “Complicated,” he repeated, the frown not leaving his lips. “You’re only increasing my doubts, Julien,” he warned, posture stiffening as he watched the Bosmer. 

Julien gave a heavy sigh, then downed the rest of his wine in one drink before looking back to Alval. “Fine. I’m caught up on Lucien and he’s an absolute bastard,” he snapped, and Alval’s expression was the perfect image of shock. He held up a hand as he closed his eyes, lips parted a moment as he tried to gather words to speak.

“Hold on, are you saying you have… feelings… for Lachance?” he asked, and Julien gave a heavy sigh, walking over to the dresser beside Uvani and pouring himself another glass of wine. “No-yes- ugh, I don’t know,” he grumbled, taking a drink from his new glass and refusing to look at Alval. Julien heard the dark elf sigh, and he quickly looked back at his wine as if it was the most interesting thing on Nirn. 

“He is probably the worst person you could have feelings for. Don’t get me wrong, I love him as I love all my brothers and sisters of the Brotherhood, but… There’s a lot of baggage there,” Alval tried to inform him, to which Julien simply sighed. 

“Yeah, no kidding,” he muttered, taking a drink from his second glass of wine, slower now, this time. Alval watched him, expression contemplative before he himself sighed. “I’d suggest looking elsewhere for companionship. You’ll find none with him,” Alval advised him, and that got Julien’s attention, his green eyes flicking over to the Dunmer with a frown upon his lips. 

“Yeah. He told me to take a month away from the Brotherhood due to my injury, but now that you’ve healed me…” he trailed off, to which Alval held up a hand, stopping him. “Still take that month away. It will give you time to sort through your… feelings,” Alval suggested, and Julien hesitated, lips pursed before he gave a slow nod. 

“Alright, Alval, I’ll listen. One month. Maybe it’ll do me good,” he sighed, and the Dunmer gave a satisfied nod. “Very good. I leave for home in the morning, you are welcome to journey with me, if you would like,” Alval offered, and Julien paused. “I’d... like that,” he concluded, watching as Alval gave a nod. “Now, it’s time for me to retire for the night. Meet me by the Bay Roan Stables before dawn. From there, we will travel to Leyawiin,” he instructed, and Julien nodded, setting his glass down and turning to the door. Once he reached the door, he paused, looking back to Alval.

“Uh, thanks for… the talk,” he spoke not so gracefully, and Alval gave a wince at the unfamiliar gratitude. “No, it’s fine,” he replied curtly, swallowing uncomfortably before giving Julien a nod. “See you on the morn,” he finished, and Julien returned the nod, leaving it at that. Closing the door behind him, he looked down the hallway, the same hooded man walking back towards the end of the hallway. As the man past him, a chill swept over him, a shiver coursing through him. Turning, he watched the man go with a strange feeling in his chest. 

Shaking his head and passing it off as nothing, Julien turned and made his way back to the door, and out into the rain once more.

After his talk with Alval, he felt he’d be able to find sleep a little easier tonight.


	7. Protect Me from What I Want

When he arrived at the stables, Alval was already there, waiting for him, donned in his maroon cloak with the hood drawn in the early dawn light. Alval looked up as he approached, a frown upon his lips. “You’re late, I said before sunrise. I was about to leave without you,” he sniffed with a disdainful look upon his face. Julien gave a roll of his eyes, waving his hand nonchalantly. “You wouldn’t have left me, I’m too likeable,” he joked, and Alval’s only response was a snort. As Uvani began walking down the road, Julien followed hastily, catching up to walk at the Dunmer’s side. 

“Anything specific to do in Leyawiin?” Julien inquired boredly, and Alval glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “Go home and rest,” he answered bluntly, and Julien frowned. “Then why am I coming with you?” he questioned, to which Alval gave a shrug. “I don’t know, why are you coming with me?” he asked in return, which only confounded Julien more. “Damn it, I know the answer, I was just making small talk,” he sighed, to which Alval shook his head, glancing back at him. “Well, I don’t know the answer, so I asked,” he responded in a serious tone, which gave Julien pause. 

“Well… because it’s hard to be alone, now,” he answered after a moment, to which Alval acknowledged with a silent nod. “That’s what I thought. That’s why I offered,” he noted, which made Julien balk. “Wait, what do you mean you _thought?_ I thought you didn’t know the answer?” Julien grumbled, to which Alval gave a cocky smirk. “Oh, I did, I just wanted to hear it from you,” he spoke with the closest thing Julien had heard to humor in his voice. Julien gave an exaggerated groan, and that _did_ bring a chuckle out of Uvani, who gave him a light slap on the arm. “Oh, stop, you’re being a child,” he joked, and Julien gave a grin. 

“Can’t help it,” he laughed lightly to the Dunmer. Alval smirked and gave a shake of his head.

Today would be a good day.

\---

Cloaked in shadow, the two were observed silently by whiskey brown eyes under a black hood. His heart panged in his chest as laughter resounded from the two, and he clenched his fist. He hated this feeling in his chest. He _hated_ it. It felt weak.

He was a fool. 

He was a damn fool. 

\---

They arrived in Leyawiin at dusk, though one couldn’t tell due to the overcast, gloomy sky. The air felt heavy with the coming rain and static in the air. Julien glanced up as a rain drop felt, and a shiver ran over him as he looked behind himself. Alval stopped a few paces ahead, turning on his heel to glance back at Julien. “You okay?” he asked with a frown, and Julien was silent for a moment before giving a nod. “Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing,” he murmured, walking forward to catch up with Alval. 

It didn’t feel like nothing.

Inside of Leyawiin, Julien followed Alval in silence, observing as the other citizens seemed to give him a wide berth. From his attitude with strangers and those not affiliated with the Brotherhood, Julien wasn’t too surprised that they did so. 

Once at the southern side of Leyawiin, they reached Alval’s house. It was huge in comparison to Julien’s rented duplex shack, and he had to exercise control to not gawk at it. He waited behind Alval as the Dunmer unlocked the door, then walked inside as the taller man held the door open for him. Once inside, Alval closed the door behind them, watching Julien as the Bosmer fidgeted.

“Tell me the truth, what’s got you so tense?” the Dunmer asked sternly, to which Julien gave an honest shrug. “I don’t know, Alval, I just need something to busy my mind,” he answered with a frown and a slump of his shoulders. 

“Well, I’ve got plenty of books, if you’re a reader,” he offered, to which Julien gave a soft smile. Alval watched as Julien paused for a second, then looked up to him. 

“Have you ever-“ he began, stopping as he saw Alval frown. “I’m… not the best at talking about myself,” Alval told him slowly, and Julien gave a frown. “Any reason why?” the wood elf inquired, and watched as the dark elf looked around uncomfortably. “I don’t know. I just… I know I’m not too likeable, so I figured no one would care to know about me, so I don’t talk about myself. That, and being in the Dark Brotherhood makes you cautious on who you talk to yourself about. You know that,” he answered after a moment of contemplation. Julien lips curled downwards at his words, and he stepped forward, pausing and furrowing his brows as Alval bristled at the movement. 

“Alval… I’d like to know about you,” Julien spoke softly, watching as the Dunmer brought up his guard even more. “Why?” he questioned with hostility. Julien, his heart picking up pace, stepped forward once more. “Because you seem like a person I can trust,” he murmured, watching as Alval’s eyes widened. 

Before he knew what was happening, Alval’s lips were on his. They were soft and gentle, yet desperate, wanting, hungry. But as soon as the kiss began, it was over, with Alval backing up and regret spilled all over his features. 

“Julien, I shouldn’t have- I wasn’t- I-,” he stammered out, only to be silenced with Julien’s lips meeting his, taking the breath from him. Kissing him slowly, he hesitantly put one hand on Alval’s arm. Then, suddenly Alval’s hands were on his shoulders, and he was forcefully pushed back against the door, Alval’s lips chasing his as he did so. He could feel the Dunmer’s hot breath against his skin, could taste him in his mouth, and all thought was banished from Julien’s mind with Alval’s lips dancing against his own, his tongue in his mouth. 

Alval broke the kiss for air, his pale blue face flushed with heat, crimson eyes an amalgam of emotions. “Julien… this isn’t what I meant when I suggested looking elsewhere for companionship,” Alval joked with a breathless chuckle. I smile cracked over Julien’s features. “Well, maybe this isn’t such a bad place to look,” he murmured, and then leaned forward, pressing his lips to Alval’s lips once more.

Outside, rain began to pour, and a robed figure stalked off into the darkness.


	8. Come Undone

One month passed, and it passed quickly. There were times when the rich voiced Imperial came to Julien’s mind, but Alval was swift in taking those thoughts away. Things were good between the two, with few disagreements. Julien would occasionally go back to his home in Bravil when Alval was gone for longer periods of time, but anytime he stayed in his home, he would have dreams of Lucien Lachance coming to him. He had quickly learned Alval’s schedule, and would often meet him at his home in Leyawiin when his travels brought him back home. When Alval came back from meetings with the Black Hand, he always seemed… Off. Irritable. it was time for him to return to the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, he found himself eager to go, yet unready to leave Alval for an undetermined amount of time. Alval, however, wasn’t ready at all. 

“You can always send letters to my home in Bravil,” Julien insisted to the rather grouchy Dunmer, who frowned and wouldn’t meet his gaze. Grabbing his arm, Julien stepped closer, trying to meet his crimson gaze. “What has got you in such a state?” Julien persisted, and Alval finally snapped.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about it, alright? It’s just my own insecurities,” Alval insisted, and Julien let go of his arm with an unsatisfied frown. “I won’t push you, but know that you can talk to me about anything,” he sighed, and Alval was quiet for a second, an almost sad look upon his features. 

“I’ve got to head out, now,” Julien spoke up after a moment, and Alval gave a nod. 

“I’ll send you a letter,” Alval finally spoke, and Julien gave a nod in return. With his items in his packs and the Blade of Woe at his hip, he turned, giving a wave of goodbye to Alval. Watching as the Dunmer gave him a wave and a nod, he opened the door, and headed out into the streets of Leyawiin.

\---

About three days had passed, and Julien had just reached the south Red King Road when he decided he needed another bit of rest. His feet ached, and he was seriously considering buying a horse. Setting out his bedroll off the side of the road, he lit a small lantern and groaned as he lie down. He could’ve sworn his back popped in seven different places as he rolled over onto his back, gazing up at the starry night sky. 

Just as he was about to fall asleep, an odd chill swept over him and startled him back to consciousness, and he was already reaching for the Blade of Woe before his eyes were even open. When they did open however, the sight made his heart jump. Standing beside his bedroll was Lucien Lachance, arms folded across his chest and a disappointed look upon his face. Julien gave a deep frown, putting his dagger down and crisscrossing his legs. 

“What do you want?” he asked bitterly, though his heart pounded in his chest as if trying to escape the situation. Lucien shook his head. “If I were a foe, I could have killed you,” he stated, and Julien rolled his eyes in annoyance. “You still didn’t answer my question,“ Julien bit, and Lucien was silent for a moment. 

“I’m here to travel with you back to Cheydinhal, and to… offer an apology,” Lucien slowly spoke, as if the words were difficult to say. Julien frowned even more, rising to his feet and stepping up to Lucien, almost chest-to-chest with him. 

“So you apologize _now?_ Are you _kidding_ me?!” Julien snarled angrily, baring sharp Bosmer teeth as he glared up at the much taller man. Lucien remained silent, a somewhat shameful look upon his features. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke. 

“What I did to you… was wrong. You are family, and I should not have… used you so,” Lucien murmured haltingly, and watched as Julien’s expression of anger seemed to fade into something else. “So, you admit you used me. All you wanted was sex from me, so you led me on. Acted like you cared,” Julien accused, and anger flashed across Lucien’s face for a moment before quickly falling away as he sighed. 

“It… was not an act,” Lachance spoke softly, and swallowed hard, as if the words were getting caught in his throat. Julien frowned, all anger having left him. He’d never seen Lucien act in such a way before. He felt he was… truly being honest with him. Stepping back a bit, Julien folded his arms across his chest, watching Lucien’s expression. There was a troubled look in his eyes on top of everything else, and Julien finally relented. 

“Alright, fine,” he sighed, “I still don’t understand your motives, and I don’t think I want to,” he added on, a pang hitting his heart as Lucien gave a frown. “Look, Lucien, it’s going to take me awhile to… get over what happened between us. But… you are family, and I forgive you,” he corrected his harsh words, watching Lucien. The Imperial gave a somewhat forced smile, and held out his hand.

Julien clasped the Speaker’s much larger hand in his, heart beating fast in his chest as Lucien gripped it tightly, and laid his other hand atop the wood elf’s. Then, he let go, looking at Julien’s tiny makeshift camp. “You can sleep as we travel to Cheydinhal,” Lucien spoke, and Julien furrowed his brow. Then, as Lucien gave a short whistle, shuffling came from the woods, and Julien watched as out came a beautiful black steed, ebony coat shimmering in the light of the full moons with eyes as crimson as blood.

Julien’s eyes widened as he looked over the magnificent horse, her intelligent gave surfing over him. “Her name is Shadowmere,” Lucien told Julien, who gave a quiet nod as he slowly approached the horse. As he lifted his hand to touch her, she gave an unsure snort, and Julien withdrew his hand and looked to Lucien. The Speaker gave a low chuckle, walking up beside Julien, taking his hand in his, and lifting it to touch Shadowmere’s neck. 

Julien’s heart raced from his nerves and from Lucien’s hand on his own, and a small swath of guilt cut through him over his conflicting feelings as Alval entered his mind. Swallowing hard as he gazed at Lucien’s hand over his, he looked to the tall Imperial. Lucien’s eyes were on him, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. 

Then, Lucien dropped his hand from Julien’s, and the Bosmer slowly slid his own hand over the beast’s smooth neck. He could still feel Lucien’s eyes on him, and an ambivalent flood of emotions rushed through him. He then dropped his hand, turning to look up at the Imperial. 

“You’ll… have to help me up onto her,” he said with slight embarrassment at his height, and Lucien simply gave a warm chuckle. “Of course, my dear eliminator,” he purred, and Julien had to ignore the shiver that raced over him from Lucien’s voice. After collecting his bed roll and putting it into his pack, he stepped up to the side of Shadowmere, and watched as the Imperial knelt down onto one knee. 

“Step on my knee for a boost,” he instructed and Julien nodded, doing as he was told. Stepping up onto Lucien’s knee, he grabbed Shadowmere’s saddle for stability, then pulled himself up and onto her. Then, Lucien was quickly atop Shadowmere as well, sitting behind Julien. His legs were around Julien’s from the position of the saddle, and he brought his arms forward and around Julien to grab the reins. 

Lucien’s warm from enveloped him, and as Shadowmere began picked up pace to a smooth canter, it was enough to lull Julien to a calm sleep.

\---

Traveling at night was always peaceful. Shadowmere kept at a smooth canter, and Julien leaned back against his chest in his sleep. He breathed softly, and glancing down at him, Lucien had never seen him look so… vulnerable. He inhaled slowly as he tore his gaze away from the small Bosmer, a frown falling upon him. He felt the need to watch over the wood elf, to ensure nothing went wrong. He felt… weak, for this. For caring about another’s wellbeing so, for wanting to prevent harm from coming to him. But then, he’d already hurt him with his words, had he not?

These thoughts confounded Lucien, and he had to bite back the anger that rose at himself. He had tried to push Julien away; he had seen the way the Bosmer looked at him, but he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to care for someone, because caring meant he could lose them, and he knew how easy it was for someone to die. He dealt that sort of death oh so often. But every night since, he’d dreamt of him. Of his lips against Julien’s, his body hovering over the small wood elf. Of those emerald eyes watching him, of that soft voice speaking beside his ear, of his _smile_ , of all things. Was it mere infatuation? He was afraid it was not. He was afraid it was so much more.

\---

Julien awoke as light came into his vision, and he opened his bleary eyes, taking in a slow breath. He was warm, comfortable, and… moving. Brow furrowed in drowsy confusion, he looked around himself. Arms were around him, holding reins to… Shadowmere, that was her name. That meant-

His heart gave a small jump at the realization he was still in Lucien’s embrace, and he felt the Imperial shift from behind him, and he turned his head slightly to gaze up at the taller man. Lucien’s eyes were focused on the road for a moment before looking down to meet Julien’s gaze.

“We are almost there. We must depart at the stables, for I have much to do,” Lucien murmured, and Julien had to fight the disappointment that rose in his chest. The small Bosmer gave a slow nod, a soft sigh escaping his lips. 

“I understand. I’ll go straight to the Sanctuary for my next contract. I’m eager to begin work again,” Julien told him, and he felt Lucien’s chuckle against his back, making him realize how heavily he was leaning against the man. Embarrassment heated his cheeks as he leaned forward, awkwardly clearing his throat. Lucien said nothing, only shifting slightly and straightening his posture. 

The stables were a few minutes away, and when they arrived, Julien was both eager and reluctant to go. Lucien was an absolute enigma, his motives and wants a mystery to Julien. But, he knew there wasn’t a thing he could do to pull answers from Lucien. The man could probably survive torture without spilling a single secret.

As they came to stop, Lucien swung his leg around and slid off first. As he hit the ground with a thud, he turned and offered Julien a helping hand. Looking at the hand for a moment, Julien then reached out and took it, sliding off the rather tall horse. Once on the ground, Julien looked to Lucien.

“I suppose this is goodbye, for now,” Julien spoke softly, and Lucien remained silent, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, Lucien gave a nod.

“It is,” he murmured, “I will be very busy these coming days, and we will not see each other. But,” he paused, reaching forward and placing his hand on Julien’s shoulder and giving a squeeze, “I have faith you will continue to rise swiftly in our family. This will not be our last meeting,” he assured him, and Julien pursed his lips before nodding. As Lucien dropped his hand from his shoulder, Julien’s gut twisted, and he took a step forward, closer to him, then stopped. Dropping his gaze from Lucien’s, he stepped back, a soft sigh leaving him. 

“Farewell,” the Bosmer spoke softly, and turned before he could do something he would regret.

Lucien watched as Julien walked away, longing to reach out and follow the man. But now was not the time. No…

Not now.


	9. Post Blue

Julien fulfilled his contracts quickly, with little problem. He had fun with them as they came, no longer ashamed in his enjoyment of stealing the lives of others. But as the weeks passed, he grew lonely. He received a letter from Alval cordially wishing him well, but that was the most contact he’d had with either him or Lucien. 

As the days passed, however, there were whispers. Whispers of a traitor amongst them. Of family members being murdered. It set his nerves on end. Who would kill another family member? Who would break one of the Five Tenents? He didn’t know. There were so many family members from Sanctuaries he’d never met, but the mere thought of a traitor was simply terrifying. A shadow in the dark, watching, waiting, ready to strike the unsuspecting. This was what it felt like to be prey.

Julien didn’t like it. 

His contracts had grown more complicated, his most recent one having been to kill the very Adamus Phillida. The thorn in the Brotherhood’s side, the constant eye upon them. And so, he did. He killed him with the Rose of Sithis, took the index finger bearing his signet ring from his corpse, and placed it in his successor’s desk. It thrilled him to have sent such a message to Giovanni Civello, his replacement. He only wished he had been able to see the look upon his face.

Arriving back at the Cheydihal Sanctuary, he silently slipped down the well entrance, and made his way to Ocheeva. As he entered her room, she looked to him, expression very serious. 

“There you are! You’ve received a letter from Lucien Lachance, with your next contract. It is very urgent, you _must_ open it as soon as possible. It is an honor to receive such a letter,” she told him, and Julien swallowed hard, giving a nod. “Understood,” he murmured, and Ocheeve held the letter out to him. 

“It isn’t often that the Black Hand itself reaches out to any but their Silencers,” she informed him, and his heart pounded as he turned the letter over in his hand, seeing his name written on the front in smooth calligraphy. With that, he bid Ocheeva farewell, stepping out into the dimly lit corridor and quickly tearing the letter open. His emerald eyes sought the neatly written words with anxiety and anticipation.

_‘Julien,_

_It has been some time since our last correspondence. You have served the Dark Brotherhood well in your time with us. Indeed, your rate of advancement has been rather remarkable. Now, the Black Hand itself is in need of your abilities._

_Remember where you awoke after your injury? That was my private sanctum, Fort Farragut. When you arrive, we will discuss the nature of your next assignment._

_I cannot stress to you enough the importance of your swift arrival to Fort Farragut. There are unseen powers working to unravel the very fabric of the Dark Brotherhood. The Black Hand is counting on you to prevent this disaster._

_Do not share the contents of this message with anyone at the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, including Ocheeva, and make no mention of your journey to Fort Farragut!  
You may use the trap door we used upon our departure the last time you were here. I will be waiting for you._

_Lucien Lachance,’_

Folding the letter back in shaking hands, his feet were already moving before his mind had a chance to catch up. His heart pounded and he made his way silently past his beloved brothers and sisters, one thing on his mind. 

Up the well ladder he went, emerging into the dark outside. The air held a slight wind that had a bitter bite about it, and a shiver coursed through him. Placing the well’s grate back into place, he hurried to the gates of Cheydinhal, and out them he went, heading northeast to Fort Farragut.

The walk wasn’t long, for his pace was hurried, his mind buzzing with many curiosities as to what this new contract could be, coming from the Black Hand itself. The wind only grew as he traveled, until it whipped about him and caused him to shiver from the cold. 

When the Fort came into sight, he had to stifle his relief as he rushed around it and to the inconspicuous, hollowed-out tree. Heart beating in his throat, he rounded on the tree, eyes falling upon the steel hatch that led down into Lucien’s sanctum. Leaning down, he wrapped his thin hand around the circular handle, pulling up and opening it. 

Slipping down into the Fort’s subterranean level, the wind no longer assaulted him, though his skin remained cold from its onslaught. He hopped off the ladder before reaching the floor, anticipation and anxiety causing him to tense as he looked around. Lucien approached him, a most serious expression upon his handsome face, eyes dark and ominous.

“What’s this about?” Julien asked almost breathlessly, and Lucien did not smile. “My dear brother, you have done well in our family. But now, a… situation, has arisen. That is why I have sent for you. The time has come to test both your skill and loyalty to Sithis… The Black Hand has learned that the Dark Brotherhood has been infiltrated. By whom, and for what purpose, we do not yet know,” he spoke, voice low. 

A shudder coursed through every fibre of Julien’s being, and it felt like a stone was sitting in his throat. He swallowed hard, uncertainty, and worst of all, fear, racing through his veins. 

“What we do know is that there is some link between the traitor and the Cheydinhal Sanctuary. The traitor has tainted that place beyond repair,” Lucien added on, a frown heavy upon his lips, posture stiff, tensed.

His posture loosened slightly as he took a deep breath and continued. “It was learned that the traitor was active for quite some time, since before you joined the Brotherhood. That absolves you of any suspicion,” he assured him. Julien, however, could not find words to say, thought a million thoughts raced through his mind. Who could be killing fellow family members? Who _would?_ It seemed the rumors floating around the Sanctuary were true.

“Listen well, child of Sithis. You have been chosen to perform the ancient rite known as Purification. Everyone inside the Santuary… must die,”

Julien’s heart stopped.

“You must break one of the Tenets you have sworn to uphold. I know, this is an unexpected turn of events; but drastic measures must be taken. Ocheeva, Vicente Valtieri, Antoinetta Marie, Gogron gro-Bolmog, Telaendril, M’raaj-Dar, and Teinaava. All of these family members must die,” he ordered, voice cold and black as the void itself.

“You… you want me to kill them,” Julien breathed, heart as heavy as solid stone. “My family, my friends…” he trailed off. It didn’t seem quite real. But as Lucien stepped forward and took his smalln hand in his, it was painfully tangible. 

“Yes, my dear. It is the only way to secure the safety of all the Brotherhood. They die for Sithis, and you, the one to grant them their release to the void,” Lucien spoke, low voice heavy as he looked down to Julien. The wood elf drew in a deep breath, squeezing the hand that held his. 

“For the Brotherhood,” he murmured. Lucien gave a nod.

“For the Brotherhood,”

\---

The walk back to Cheydinhal was… slow. Not slow enough. No, not slow enough at all. For now, he stood before the well into the Sanctuary, _his_ Sanctuary. With silence and stealth, he moved the grate from the well, setting it against the stone and leaving it there. There would be no reason to put it back into place.

This was a contract. He had to treat it like one. 

Thus, he moved with purpose, crouched low as he swept through the familiar corridors. 

Ocheeva was asleep, and he brought Woe across her throat. She opened her eyes when he did it. She saw his face. Her last word… _”Why?”_

Vicente sensed him, welcomed him with a smile, then a frown upon seeing his bloody blade. He fought tooth and nail, and as he lie, crumpled on the floor, bleeding from multiple wounds, Julien uttered an apology. Vicente’s eyes closed, and the old vampire let out one last breath.

Antoinetta Marie… cried. He crept up on her while her back was turned and sunk Woe into her spine. Seeing his face, tears fell from her eyes. Antoinetta Marie begged him not to. 

Gogron gro-Bolmog raised his mug to him with a toothy grin, welcoming him to sit with him. Rounding on him, he sunk Woe into the unarmored nape of his neck. Spinal cord severed, he couldn’t even fight back. He didn’t scream. He stared at Julien. He stared until the light faded from his eyes.

Taelendril saw. Julien standing over the body of her lover. She roared, a vicious, primal sound, and charged him. Julien ducked, and then rose, bringing Woe through her jaw and into her brain. She was gone before she hit the floor.

M’raaj-Dar smiled at him for the first time. He did not smile as Julien plunged Woe between his ribs. Golden eyes narrowed, he spat upon Lucien as he struggled against the blood filling his lung and mouth. 

Teinaava had just arrived home. Julien stood at the door as he entered, and the Shadowscale smiled, walking forward towards his brother, arms open for an embrace. Julien stood still as the friendly Argonian took him in his arms. Teinaava did not see Woe, and uttered a gasp as it sliced through the side of his neck. He fell against the door, crimson eyes wide. Betrayed.

Julien stood in the middle of the Sanctuary as he prepared to leave. The silence was heavy, and his heart hurt. Oh, how it hurt. The Bosmer crumpled to the ground, and he shook, and he cried. 

\---

Climbing down into Fort Farragut, Julien was immediately met by Lucien. He didn’t speak as he wrapped his arms tightly around the taller man, and sobbed. Lucien was tense at first, but slowly, he eased, and wrapped his arms around the small Bosmer. Julien cried until he could no more. 

His Cheydinhal family, dead by his hand. Left with a family of nameless faces, but for two. Alval Uvani, and Lucien Lachance.

They were all he had left.


	10. Julien

All his subsequent contracts and rewards were received through dead drops. Though, traveling was much easier now, as Lucien had gifted him his beloved mare, Shadowmere. Getting to and from contracts now was an absolute breeze, but being with Shadowmere was a small comfort. He didn’t see Lucien nor Alval often. He’d last seen Alval before he purified the Sanctuary, and he knew the entire Black Hand had made the decision on the Purification. Yet, Alval didn’t mention the Purification in any of their correspondences. Maybe he knew just how badly it effect Julien. Or was he avoiding him? Or perhaps he was simply just as busy as Lucien was. Lucien was very preoccupied with the Black Hand now, repairing the damage after what happened with the Cheydinhal Sanctuary.

His previous two contracts had proven exceedingly difficult. One against a skilled khajiit boxer named J’Ghasta. Surprisingly, he’d heard Julien sneaking up on him, and confronted him. Julien remained silent, and the khajiit took him for a mere thief. 

The fight against him was hard one, with Julien leaving the house with more than one cracked rib, a blackened eye, and a busted lip. But, J’Ghasta lie dead in his training room, and that contract was complete. The next that followed, however, was even more difficult.

Julien was sent after an Argonian named Shaleez, a fugitive hiding out in the Flooded Mine. Getting to her was difficult, having to navigate the underwater passageways. He nearly breathed in a lungful of water before reaching the surface. And when he did, she was standing, ready.

The argonian had lunged at him, teeth bared and sword drawn. Julien had only just made it out of the way, leaping from the water and tackling her head on. Knocking her down, they grappled for a moment before he could send her sword flying away from her. She then bit down on his forearm and right through his armor, and he let out a scream as she sunk her teeth into his flesh and shook her head, tearing his skin and muscle. 

The small Bosmer elbowed her with his free arm once, twice, three times, and still, she did not let go. Biting and clawing at him, as her life depended on it. He finally brought the Blade of Woe right down into her eye, and her death was instantaneous and bloody. Julien had to pry her jaws off of him, and once he did, his arm bled heavily. 

Swimming back to the exit was much more difficult this time around. He all but crawled out of the mine, collapsing on the soft grass at the mouth of the mine as he gasped for breath, dripping wet and a bloody mess. Shadowmere, waiting patiently outside the mine, approached him, her warm breath passing over his wet face as she sniffed at him, then gave a snort at the pungent smell of his blood from his injury. 

Still, she kept her head lowered, and Julien took the offered help, wrapping his good arm around her neck. She lifted her head, and Julien used his leverage on her to rise onto his shaky legs. From there, he placed a foot in the stirrup and pulled himself up into the saddle. His wounds throbbed, and as he slumped, absolutely drained, in the saddle, she began walking slowly towards the road and back towards Bravil.

\---

Stabling Shadowmere outside the walls, he brought himself through Bravil’s massive doors and towards his meager home. Upon reaching his door, he pulled himself inside, closing and locking the behind him. Rounding the corner to his small bedroom, he peeled off his Brotherhood armor, wincing as he had to pull the torn leather out of his bite wound. He then made his way to his water basin, washing it thoroughly, using soap to clean each of the deep teeth marks. That was definitely going to hurt in the morning. By the void, it hurt _now._

Once done, he didn’t bother to get dressed, turning to his bed and falling into it. Everything hurt; his ribs, his eye, his lip, his arm. His heart. He was still torn up over the Purification. It would be something that would tear at him for the rest of his life, he was sure. He could still see each of their faces, as they were alive, and as they lie dead. It haunted him. Haunted his sleep. 

Thanks to his exhaustion, however, he fell to sleep swiftly, and nightmares did not plague him this time, his weariness too prominent to allow anything but simple rest. 

\---

Upon waking up, Julien reviewed the current Dead Drop letter. His next contract could be found in a coffin just outside of Fort Redman. He knew where it was, a bit south of Bravil, and north of Leyawiin. 

Leaving the city, he saddled up Shadowmere as fast as his injuries would allow, and then, he was off. The ride to Redman Fort was peaceful enough, and as he arrived there, no foes lurked around. It was merely an empty Fort, and at the door, as promised, was a coffin. 

Julien slid off of Shadowmere, hitting the ground with a soft grunt as he regained his footing. The small Bosmer approached the coffin, using his good arm to open the lid. Inside, at the bottom, was the usual stuff. A coin purse with his reward of five hundred septims, and a folded letter containing his next contract. Reaching in, he boredly unfolded the piece of paper to read the details.

Julien’s heart nearly stopped.

This contract… was for Alval Uvani’s life.

Eyes wide, he read over it again. It identified him as a traveling merchant, whose wife had become disillusioned with his frequent absence. It was all inconsistent. Alval had never married, they’d had many talks about each other’s’ pasts. His guise while on Brotherhood work was a traveling merchant, but… it still didn’t make sense.

It was then that it all came together in Julien’s mind. 

It was Lucien. It was him all along.

Lucien Lachance was the traitor. 

Having him perform the Purification on the Cheydinhal Sanctuary was just a trick to lead suspicion away from him! It was clever, it was well thought out, it was beyond horrible. He felt utterly sick to his stomach, and he crumpled the contract and shoved it into his pocket. Fuming, teeth bared in anger and adrenaline coursing through him, he quickly mounted Shadowmere, and turned her north.

 _”Lucien,”_ he snarled.

It was time to confront the traitor.

\---

On the second level of Fort Redman was a robed man, watching from above. Dark brown eyes watched eagerly as his pawn opened the coffin and pulled out the reward, and then the contract. He watched excitedly as the Bosmer read over it, but then… he stiffened.

Had he been discovered?

No… the wood elf’s attention was on the contract. His hands shook as he read it. Then he turned on his heel, and with sharp Bosmer teeth bared, he snarled a name.  
_Lucien._

A grin spread across his lips as he watched the mer mount the wretched black mare, and turn her north. Watching as he kicked the horse into a gallop and sped off to the north, he rose to his feet.

This was perfect. All he had to do was let his pawn deal with Lachance himself. He had the skill, now. He’d killed another Silencer, Shaleez, and even the Speaker for the Bruma Sanctuary, J’Ghasta! He’d be able to best Lachance now.

This was perfect.

The hooded man turned, and made his way southwards. 

Leyawiin was his goal. 

Two birds with one stone. 

\---

He reached Fort Farragut as the sun was setting, and Shadowmere breathed hard, nostrils flared from exertion. Julien quickly dismounted her before the hollowed tree, swiftly approaching the hatch and pulling it open with his uninjured arm. 

He climbed down the ladder with haste, and as he reached the floor, Lucien’s back was to him, writing on a letter. The Speaker glanced back at him upon hearing his entrance, and gave a smile and turned. Upon seeing his expression, however, his smile fell, and his brow furrowed. 

Parting his lips to speak, Lucien didn’t get a word out.

“You _**bastard!”**_ Julien roared as he strode forward, and before he Lucien could speak, he charged him, Woe drawn. Lucien drew his dagger and quickly blocked the attack, eyes wide in shock.

“Julien! What is the meaning of this?!” the traitor shouted as he pushed back against Woe, and Julien brought his knee up and into Lucien’s gut. The Speaker gave a grunt at the impact, and it was enough to get him unbalanced. Julien shoved him to the ground, and he followed after, landing atop Lucien in an attempt to pin him. He was small, but he was agile and quick. So much adrenaline and anger coursed through him that his injuries caused him no grief.

“It was you! You _used_ me all along!” Julien screamed, and tears burned at his eyes as he brought Woe to Lucien’s throat. Lucien, however, was much larger, and with one push, was able to dislodge Julien from atop him, sending him rolling to the side. Lucien took his chance quickly, hurrying over to Julien and pinning him down, as he did the first time they fought. 

Julien snarled like a feral animal, thrashing and kicking, and Lucien nearly lost his advantage a few times as Julien fought back. He shook Woe from the Bosmer’s small hand, and Julien yelled out in anger. Looking down at Julien’s bruised face, furious green eyes met him, and the Bosmer spat on his face.

“ _ **TRAITOR!”**_ Julien screamed, and tears poured from those emerald eyes. Lucien stared in confusion, and his grip on Julien loosened. 

Julien took this opening and kicked upwards, freeing himself from Lucien’s grasp and scrambling for the Blade of Woe. His arm bled heavily and sanguine droplets followed his movements. Lucien lurched forward and tackled the small mer to the ground once more, and another furious shriek left the Bosmer.

“Julien! Talk to me!” Lucien shouted at the top of his lungs, heart pounding hard in his exertion. What did he mean? Traitor? Lucien was no traitor! The Brotherhood was his life! He’d been investigating more family deaths just before Julien had stormed in!

This meant…

No…

He was being framed.

Lucien wrapped his arms and legs around Julien’s tiny body, and the wood elf screamed violently, attempting to kick and bite and claw to no avail, thanks to Lucien’s vice-like grip on him. 

“I am not the traitor, Julien! I swear upon my life!” Lucien tried to talk him down, and his fighting paused a moment before resuming with more anger than before.

“You _fuckin’_ liar! You had me kill the Cheydinhal family, and I was stupid enough to think it had to be done!” he screamed, shaking in Lucien’s grip. “I killed them for no reason because you said it was necessary, but I won’t follow your orders now! I won’t kill Alval!” he shook violently before screaming once more. “I’LL KILL YOU! TRAITOR!”

Lucien battled with his writhing and thrashing all while trying to piece it together in his mind. His arms and legs shook with how much force he was exerting to not let Julien loose, but he had to calm him down.

“I would never order the death of a member of the Black Hand!” Lucien shouted, relief flooding over him as Julien stilled in his grip.

“Before you came, I was investigating the deaths of Shaleez and J’Ghasta, a Silencer and a Speaker,” he panted. Then, Julien shook in his arms, and hysterical sobs flowed forth from his Silencer. “Oh, gods, Lucien, I killed them,” he bawled. Lucien took in a sharp breath, and even more confusion flowed over him. Julien killed them?! It didn’t make sense!

“Why would you kill them, Julien?” he asked, voice low, confused, lost. Julien shook even harder in his arms. “You told me to! In the contracts! The dead drops!” he wept, and Lucien went dead still, eyes widening. 

“Julien. Show me the contracts,” he ordered, and Julien’s sobs stilled. “Why should I listen to anything you say? You ordered their deaths!” he cried out, and Lucien clenched his teeth so hard they could have cracked. 

“SHOW ME THE CONTRACTS!” Lucien roared, and Julien’s form stilled. Lucien was nervous to let him go with how hard he’d been fighting, but he felt warm blood seeping into his robes the entire time he held the Bosmer. He was badly injured somewhere. He’d be able to take him down if he tried to attack again.

Slowly, Lucien released him and rose to his feet. He carefully watched Julien, the Bosmer’s movements slow as he dragged himself to his feet. His legs shook as he stand, and it was then Lucien realized all fight had left him. Still, he watched him carefully as Julien reached into his pack, and pulled out three contracts. With a shaking hand, he held them out to Lucien, then as Lucien took them, he clutched his injured arm to his chest.

Lucien unfolded the first, eyes intently reading over it. A contract for J’Ghasta’s life. A lump formed in his throat as he opened the second, for Shaleez. The third, he finally reached, and his eyes followed each line, and he could feel Julien’s glare burning into him. 

The third had such detail on Uvani’s schedule, information even on his extremely rare allergy. No one would know this except for…

His eyes widened.

“Mathieu,” he whispered.

“What?” Julien demanded, shimmering green eyes narrowed, shoulders slumped.

“Mathieu Bellamont,” Lucien repeated, looking up to Julien. 

“Alval Uvani’s Silencer,”

Julien’s eyes widened as he stared at Lucien. Then, it dawned on him. The only one that could have so much information on Alval. He orchestrated it all. He switched out the Dead Drops for his own orders. But… why? Why would another family member do all this? Then, Julien’s heart stopped as he thougth of Alval.

“Lucien, we have to go, Alval is in danger!” he cried out, quickly turning on his heel and hurrying towards the ladder. Lucien grabbed his good arm, keeping him from running to the ladder. “Julien, no! It’s too late!” he shouted, and Julien turned on him, snarling. “It’s not! We can still save him! Maybe Mathieu-“ he started, and Lucien cut him off.

“We have to think this out,” Lucien warned, and Julien stopped, a rock in his throat as he looked to Lucien. “He wouldn’t leave him while he knew you were coming for me. Julien… Alval is gone,” he spoke quietly, and watched as Julien’s lip quivered and tears welled in his emerald eyes. 

“We can’t just give up on him,” Julien shook. Lucien gave a frown, and then a nod. “We’ll go now. Dress your wound, and I will get my armor,” he instructed, and Julien nodded. Lucien turned, striding to his wardrobe and pulling the doors open. As Speaker, he hadn’t killed in a long time. 

Was he ever looking forward to this kill. 

Mathieu Bellamont. The traitor.


	11. Infra-Red

Julien peeled back the leather and re-dressed his bite wound, glancing upwards and Lucien began slipping on his Brotherhood armor. His muscled form was tense, his expression focused. Julien placed his attention upon his arm once more as he wrapped bandages around it, his heart pounding, thinking ‘ _Maybe we’ll get to Leyawiin and Alval will still be alive,’_

Something in his chest, a deep knowing, said otherwise. 

Finishing with his wound, he looked up as Lucien approached, he was strapping two silver daggers to his waist. “Shadowmere?” he inquired quickly, and Julien motioned upwards with his head. “Outside,” he replied, and Lucien set off towards the ladder. Julien followed after him, climbing up the ladder behind him.

Shadowmere, the loyal steed, was still waiting right outside the hollowed tree, ebon pelt shimmering in the moonlight, and her ears perked upon seeing Lucien. He gave her a caress on her neck before approaching her side and swiftly swinging himself into the saddle. As Julien approached, he held out his hand to help to Bosmer up. 

Julien took the offered hand, and was pulled up behind Lucien atop Shadowmere. Wrapping his arms and Lucien’s waist for support, Lucien gave a grunt as he tapped Shadowmere’s sides with his heels and flicked her reins. With that, they were off. Even at Shadowmere’s fast speed, it would be near dawn before they arrived.

In his heart, he already knew what they would find. 

\---

Arriving outside of Leyawiin, the two stabled Shadowmere silently and swept inside the city, keeping to the shadows. If Mathieu was still around, they’d need to be exceedingly cautious. Lucien led the way, working his way to the south side of the city and towards Alval’s house. Upon arriving to it, the door was locked. Julien, however, had a key, from when he stayed with Alval.

Lucien frowned at the implications, though it was the smallest problem to him at the moment. He would dwell on it later. He watched as Julien slipped the key in the door and unlocked it, and then, rushed inside. Lucien followed silently, closing the door behind him and locking it. Just in case.

There was blood everywhere.  
The floor, splattered on the walls, and leading upstairs. Scorch marks adorned the walls and the floors, though none of it fresh. Julien’s face turned sickly white, and he hurried up the stairs, tracking bloody footprints as he moved. Upstairs, it wasn’t any better. Upstairs…

Was Alval’s body. 

Julien rushed to his body, crumpling to his knees at Alval’s side. His crimson eyes were wide, staring at the ceiling but not seeing. Blood was on his face, a gash across his cheekbone, his throat holding multiple stab wounds, his burgundy shirt torn and soaked with blood, his stomach… cut open.

He suffered.

A low, mournful sound escaped Julien as he took Alval’s cold, limp hand in his, and he tried to bite back his tears. But looking to Alval’s lifeless body once more, a sob escaped him. 

“He won’t get away with this,” Julien murmured as tears escaped, turning to look at Lucien. The Speaker approached his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. “He can’t hide, we’ve got him now,” Lucien assured him, eyes narrowed as he looked down at the Dunmer’s mutilated corpse. 

Turning on his heel, Lucien set to investigate the rest of upstairs and to ensure they were alone. Julien reluctantly let go of Alval, turning to head downstairs. Something, however, caught his eye. On Alval’s desk, a letter. His heart dropped in his chest as he approached it, and took it in his small hands.

_’Julien,_

_My apologies for not getting back to you. Work has been very busy. But know I’m proud of you. What you’ve accomplished, not many could do in such time. As for the Purification; it had to be done. The Black Hand deemed it so, and you were chosen, for we knew we could trust you. But, I’m afraid it did not solve the problem._

_Family members are still dying. We’ve lost a Silencer and a Speaker, and I fear for you. I want you to come to me when you receive this letter; we will be safer together. We’ll find this traitor, and we will make sure he pays for the lives of all the family dead because of him._

_Make haste, Julien. I do not want to lose you._

_~Alval Uvani,’_

Julien’s hands shook.

Lucien approached him, and he quickly turned, eyes shimmering. “What have you found?” Lucien inquired, and hesitantly, he handed him the letter. Lucien took it in his gloved hands, expression emotionless as he read over it. He frowned, looking up to Julien. There was pain in his eyes, but the emotion quickly fell away upon seeing Julien’s expression. Now was not the time for jealousy. It would do him no good to be jealous of a dead man. 

“I… am sorry,” he murmured, handing the letter back to Julien. The Bosmer took it, folding it up and sticking it into his pocket. Then, with resolute determination in his eyes, he looked up and met Lucien’s brown gaze. 

“Let’s get him,” he snarled.

Lucien nodded in agreement.

\---

Traveling back to Fort Farragut, the two made no contact with other family members. It was best if their presence remained unknown for the moment, as to not tip off Mathieu. Julien’s arms were wrapped loosely around his waist for stability, his head resting against Lucien’s back. He was awake, however, watching the passing scenery. They were off the road for safety, traversing through the forest and towards the Fort. They were close. There, they would create a plan.

“About Alval…” Lucien began, and Julien sat up, looking at the back of Lucien’s head. “What about him?” Julien snapped, warning in his voice. Lucien was silent for a moment before speaking.

“I know he was important to you, and you to him. He always… reacted, whenever I mentioned you,” he began. Julien’s fire slowly died out, and his shoulders slumped. Julien was silent. 

“How long?” Lucien asked softly. Julien swallowed hard, training his gaze upon the scenery once more. “About three months. After you…” he trailed off, and Lucien bit his cheek at the realization. He’d pushed Julien away and right into the arms of another. It was selfish of him to feel bitter, especially with Alval’s death, but he couldn’t help it. Was it too late now for him to tell Julien of his true intentions?

Perhaps not, but now… now was not the time.

“I’m sorry,” Lucien spoke after a moment, and a soft sigh left him and Julien rested his head against his back once more. 

\---

Once reaching Fort Farragut, Lucien’s secret sanctum, the two dismounted and slipped inside. Once inside, both wearily began removing their armor. Everything on Julien hurt; his ribs were still healing, and his blackened eye was now shades of purple and yellow. Out of his armor, he pulled his clothes from his back, slipping on his light brown linen trousers and shirt with suspenders. Lucien pulled on black trousers and a black doublet. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he motioned for Julien to approach him. The Bosmer did so, folding his arms across his chest. Lucien looked back at him, gaze flicking over his injured arm, dried blood having stained the bandages. 

“Let me treat your arm, and then we will talk,” Lucien spoke, patting the space beside him for Julien to sit. Once Julien sat, Lucien rose and approached a cupboard, pulling out a mortar and pestle, as well as Lady’s Mantle Leaves, Mugwort Seeds, and White Seed Pods. 

Julien watched as he placed the ingredients in the mortar and pestle with a splash of water, and began grinding them into a paste. Once he was finished, Lucien set it to the side, and knelt in front of Julien. Reaching out, Julien then offered his arm to Lucien. The Imperial began unrolling the soiled bandages from his arm, and the Bosmer winced as he got to the final layer, which stuck around the weeping bite marks. Once he finally peeled it off, he got a wet rag, running it over the wound and scrubbing the dried fluids off from the skin. The skin around the teeth marks was red and angry, a sign of infection. 

“She put up a fight,” Lucien noted quietly as he began smearing the paste over the wound. Julioen gave a nod, a frown upon his lips. “She did,” he murmured quietly, shame painting his features. Lucien looked up to him, and he frowned. Taking one of Julien’s hands in his clean one, he looked into his emerald eyes. 

“You didn’t know, Julien. You can’t be held accountable. The other member of the Black Hand will understand this,” he assured the Bosmer, who gave a slow nod. Then, Lucien let go of hand, and rose to his feet. Turning, he rinsed the remaining paste from his hand, then grabbed a roll of fresh bandages, and began winding them around Julien’s arm. 

Julien watched as he did this, looking at his face. His expression was quiet, thoughtful. Julien’s heart hurt so much, and all he wanted right now was comfort. Lucien caring for him gave him some small amount of comfort, but it didn’t feel like enough. He felt so broken, so hollow, as if he was about to shatter into a million pieces. As Lucien looked up to him, he quickly leaned forward, wrapping his arms around the man. Lucien tensed for a moment before easing up, and wrapping his arms around the small Bosmer. 

They stayed like that for a moment before Julien finally let go, and Lucien looked into his eyes, a frown upon his lips as he gazed at his expression. The wood elf looked so… exhausted. He knew all of this had to be so hard on him. Anger flashed through his eyes as he rose.

Bellamont would pay for this.

“Now, we need to get what’s left of the Black Hand together,” Lucien began, and Julien at up, listening. “But I cannot be the one to arrange the meeting. Mathieu expects me to be dead, and we will let him believe that. Therefore, you will write the letters. Somewhere close quarters, where Bellamont cannot escape…” Lucien murmured, and Julien’s expression turned thoughtful as he rose, and approached Lucien’s desk. Sitting there, he pulled out pieces of parchment, as well as a quill and inkwell. Thinking for a moment, he then looked to Lucien, and Lucien to him.

“Applewatch,” the two spoke in unison. 

Where the old Draconis woman lived. It was well enough away from a city, no guards, no witnesses, no interlopers. The Black Hand could meet there. They could deal with Bellamont there.

Looking down to the paper, Julien took a deep breath, dipped the quill into the ink, and then began writing.

_’Black Hand,_

_The traitor, Lucien Lachance, lies dead by my hand. I believe we should meet to discuss this, and what lies ahead for the Black Hand, and for myself. At Applewatch, a small farm north of Bruma. The woman that lived there is dead. On Tirdas, I expect to see you there._

_All will be explained._

_Julien Bo,’_

Setting the quill down, Julien met Lucien’s eyes, and the Speaker gave a nod.

Things were in motion.

\---

Two days had passed, and Julien stood in Applewatch. Lucien, hiding outside, awaited the arrival of the Black Hand. The first to arrive was Arquen, Speaker of the Chorrol Sanctuary. Second was Banus Alor, Speaker of the Skingrad Sanctuary. Third, Belisarius Arius the new Speaker for the Bruma Sanctuary. Fourth, Ungolim, Listener for the Dark Brotherhood. Fourth…

Mathieu Bellamont, new Speaker for the Leyawiin Sanctuary.

Julien stood before the five members of the Black Hand, and his heart pounded in his chest. 

“I’m glad you all made it,” Julien began, looking around at each of them, taking a considerable amount of self-control to not lunge at Bellamont. The Breton stood there with an innocent smile upon his face, hands clasped together.

“How did you know Lucien was the traitor?” spoke Arquen, confusion in her voice and her brows furrowed. Julien gave a smile as cold as the void as the handle on the door turned once more, and the members of the Black Hand all turned to see who it could be.

Lucien Lachance let himself in, donned in his Black Hand robes, silver daggers at his waist, and a deadly expression upon his face.

“What is the meaning of this?” came a shout, and Julien’s eyes flicked to the owner of the voice; Mathieu Bellamont. 

“It means you’ve failed,” came Lucien’s snarl, and he strode forward. Ungolim held a hand out to stop Lucien, who paused at the Listener’s behest, and the fellow Bosmer turned to Julien. Banus and Belisarius had drawn their weapons upon seeing Lucien, but they remained still, looking to Ungolim.

“Explain,” he demanded, and Julien’s eyes fell upon Bellamont. The Breton’s brown gaze was wide, chest rising and falling rapidly. “The traitor is not dead,” Julien began, clenching his teeth before taking a deep, steadying breath. 

“What do you mean?” snapped Ungolim, and Julien’s eyes remained upon Mathieu. “He’s here, with us. The newly elected Speaker of the Leyawiin Sanctuary,” he growled, and then, Mathieu screamed.

 _”LIAR!’_ he shrieked, unsheathing his blade and holding it out as the members of the Black Hand turned to face them. Lucien moved forward to stand beside Julien, fury in his expression. 

“Mathieu! What are you doing?” demanded Ungolim, looking to the Breton whose hands shook around the dagger. 

“I’m not the traitor! It’s Lachance! He’s the filthy scum, he’s the one, he killed them!” he shouted, and Julien shook his head. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out four scraps of paper. “I have evidence,” snarled the Bosmer, watching as sweat beaded upon Bellamont’s forehead. 

Looking to Ungolim, he handed the papers to him. The Listener snatched them from his hand, quickly unfolding them and reading over each one. Banus and Belisarius had their weapons trained on Mathieu, who stood with his dagger at the ready in his trembling hands. 

“I don’t see how this is evidence. A contract for a necromancer, then three for members of our family? How does this convict Bellamont?” he asked shortly, and Julien looked back to Mathieu. “The first was from Lucien. Look at the handwriting,” he began, placing a hand on Woe, which rested at his hip. 

“The other three, are from Mathieu. Tell me, who else would know so much of Alval? Who would gather that much information? Who else would be _able_ to besides his very own Silencer?” Julien explained, and as realization crept over Ungolim’s face, an unearthly shriek came from Bellamont. 

Lunging forward, his target was Lucien. Before anyone could react, he was upon the Cheydinhal Speaker, sinking his blade into his gut once, and this twice. Julien let out a roar as he darted towards him, knocking him back and to the floor. Lucien stood, clutching his wound with wide eyes as blood seeped between his fingers, before dropping to his knees, watching the scene unfold before him. Arquen rushed to Lucien’s side, using restoration magic upon his wounds as his chest fluttered and he tried to rise to his feet.

The other four of the Black Hand pushed forward towards Bellamont, who launched Julien off of him with a well-placed kick. He then rose, and as Belisarius made towards him, he slashed, bringing his blade deep into the Imperial’s throat. A choked gasp escaped the Bruma Speaker before he collapsed, lifeless. Banus rushed him as Belisarius fell, as Mathieu defended himself against Banus, Julien lunged forward, Woe drawn, and plunged it into Mathieu’s back.

It didn’t stop him. Julien watched as he pulled his blade from Banus’ temple, then rounded on Julien, death in his brown eyes, death and vehement fury.

An arrow then burst forth from his chest, and he staggered, looking back to Ungolim, who had his bow drawn. Looking forward, he staggered towards Julien once more, and before he could d anything, Julein lunged forward, sinking Woe deep into his chest. Then a second time, and then a third.

“That’s for the Cheydinhal Sanctuary,” he began, then stabbed once more as a gurgled gasp escaped Mathieu. “That’s for Shaleez,” again, “J’Ghasta,” Bellamont fell to the floor, and Julien followed, fury in his eyes. “For Alval,” he sunk the blade in one more time, and gave it a twist, and angled upwards, into Bellamont’s heart.

“And that’s for fucking with the Dark Brotherhood,” he spat, then ripped Woe free of Bellamont’s corpse. 

Then, as the battle heat left him, his eyes widened and he whipped around, looking to where Lucien had stood. Kneeling beside him, blue light emanated from Arquen’s hands as she healed him, and his face was white as a sheet. She had lowered him to the ground, where he now lay, struggling for breath.

Julien rushed to him, kneeling before him and taking one bloody hand in his. “Lucien, I’m so sorry, just-” he began, and Lucien shook his head, a smile coming to his lips. “You did exactly what you should have” he spoke, then gave a short cough, blood staining his lips.

“It hit his lung,” Arquen informed Julien, leaning back as she spent the rest of her magicka, a helpless look upon her fine features. Julien looked back to Ungolim, who was checking Banus and Belisarius for life. “Do you have a health potion?” he begged, and Ungolim quickly rose and approached the three. Digging in his sack, he produced a small bottle, and Julien snatched it with his free hand. 

Lifting it to Lucien’s lips, he poured the liquid into his mouth, frowning as some ran out of the corner of his mouth. Consciousness was leaving him. 

“Damn it, you can’t die on me!” Julien cried. He lifted the health potion to his own mouth, pouring the contents in before leaning over Lucien and pressing his lips against the Imperials. Lucien took a shuddered breath. Julien let the potion pass from his mouth into Lucien’s, and he leaned back, bringing his free hand to Lucien’s throat and rubbing, urging him to swallow. His other hand gripped Lucien’s tightly, his heart pounding hard against his sternum. 

Then, Lucien swallowed, and coughed, and his eyes opened.

A mixture between a laugh and a sob escaped Julien as he dove forward, wrapping his arms around Lucien, hugging him tight. A rattle laugh left Lucien, and he brought one arm around Julien.

“It takes a lot more than that to kill me,” he chuckled, and before he could say more, Julien’s lips were against his, kissing him desperately, as if he was scared that he could still lose him. 

Lucien kissed him back, a sigh leaving him. It was done. 

It was finally over.


	12. Loud Like Love

The following weeks were calmer, now that the danger to the Brotherhood was taken care of. Julien was allowed breaks from his contracts to recover from his wounds, and Lucien as well. Restoration magic and healing potions could only do so much; time was required to heal what was left of their wounds; physical and emotional.

Replacements were found for Banus Alor, Belisarius Arius, and Mathieu Bellamont. It still hurt to think about it; but that’s exactly why he was taking time for himself. To heal. The ordeal damaged him, moreso than he’d realized. Nightmares of losing the rest of his family still plagued him, or nightmares of the Cheydinhal family, of Alval, of losing Lucien.

It would take a long time to fully recover. There were times he couldn’t bear it; times that he just fell apart. During those times, however, Lucien was there for him. The man still had trouble showing affection at times, but when he saw Julien shattering, he held him so tightly, as if he believed he could hold him together in those moments. Truth was, Lucien did hold him together. 

Despite everything that happened, Julien cared for the Imperial. He never would have guessed his feelings for Lucien would become so prominent, but they had. Lucien was the one person left from the beginning of it all. From awaking to Lucien sitting at the foot of his bed, to now, sitting beside that same man in bed at his home in Bravil as he read a book, head on his bare shoulder. Both were unclothed beneath the covers, legs tangled comfortably, sharing warmth as rain drummed upon the rooftop and winds rattled the house.

“You’re thinking very loudly,” Lucien remarked as he closed the book, _Immortal Blood_. Julien chuckled softly, looking up and meeting Lucien’s warm brown gaze. “Am I, now?” he questioned, and the Speaker furrowed his brow as he set the book on the nightstand. “Something’s on your mind,” Lucien commented, and Julien gave a soft sigh, dropping his gaze. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he murmured, and his troubled heart eased ever so slightly as Lucien draped his arm over his shoulders. He didn’t prompt him, or demand that he talk about it. He simply waited silently, inquisitive brown eyes watching his companion as he struggled to find words. After a few more moments of silence, Julien let out a soft sigh. 

“I never thought things would end up like this,” Julien spoke softly, to which Lucien cocked a brow. “Like how?” he asked confusedly, and Julien sat up a bit, reaching to where Lucien’s arm was draped across his shoulders and taking larger hand in his smaller one. 

“Ending up… okay,” Julien spoke after a moment. “After my first… kill, I had no plans for life. I had nowhere to go, nothing to do. I expected to go out and have a… hunting accident,” he murmured, and Lucien’s hand tightened around his. 

“But then, you were there. Sure, you scared the shit out of me,” he chuckled, and so did Lucien, “but you were there, along with a new beginning,” he sighed. “And… I’m grateful for that. I’m grateful for… you,” Julien spoke quietly, and Lucien was silent for a moment, just the sound of their heartbeats and slow breathing filling the room.

“I… am grateful for you, too,” Lucien spoke finally, voice low, gentle. Gentle. An odd word to describe Lucien Lachance, of all people. But as Julien lie curled against him, he decided that the word did fit for the Speaker, in this moment. Gentle.

“You never told me about your first kill,” Lucien commented as he rubbed his thumb over the top of Julien’s hand, and the Bosmer let out a quiet sigh. “You don’t have to, however,” Lucien added on, and Julien gave a shake of his head. “No, it’s… okay. It isn’t a complicated story. It was my father,” he answered, and Lucien raised a brow in curiosity.

“He wasn’t a good man. He… hurt me, in a lot of ways,” Julien began, raising his free hand to his throat and running his fingertips over the thick scar that resided there. “It was just revenge. I don’t regret it, either,” he added on, and Lucien gave a nod. “Good. You shouldn’t,” he told Julien, giving his hand another squeeze. 

“Now… can I ask you a question?” Julien asked hesitantly, and Lucien gave a hum of inquiry. “I was wondering… and I don’t mean to dig up old wounds… it just bothers me still,” Julien began, voice quiet. Lucien sat up, looking down at him now with a frown upon his lips.

“When we had sex, and you acted like it was nothing… Was it nothing to you?” Julien asked, bringing those emerald eyes to meet Lucien’s warm brown gaze. Lucien’s frown deepened, and it was he that couldn’t hold eye contact. A sigh escaped the Imperial, and he parted his lips once before closing them, searching for words. 

“It… wasn’t nothing,” he spoke slowly, quietly. “I just…” he trailed off, and Julien watched as the Imperial clenched his teeth, his jaw tightening, before releasing with a sigh, shoulders slumping. “It was far from nothing, and that’s what bothered me. I’m not used to… caring. I felt weak,” he relented, gaze down. “Because caring means being afraid of losing, and being afraid is-“ he started, and stopped as sat up, wrapping his arms around him tightly. Lucien stiffened at the contact before slowly easing himself, swallowing hard. 

Leaning back, Julien looked Lucien in the eyes, and brought a hand to cup his face. 

“Lucien. To be afraid isn’t to be weak,” he began, voice firm. “Strength is being afraid, but going on anyhow,” he told him, watching as his expression shifted. From shame to admiration as he gazed into Julien’s emerald eyes. 

Then, Lucien pulled him forward, desperately pressing his lips to Julien’s. It was a desperation Julien had never felt from the man before, and he melted into his touch. Lucien’s tongue ran along his lips, and he parted them, granting the Speaker access. 

As their tongues met, a soft moan escaped Julien, and Lucien brought his arms around the wood elf’s tiny waist, quickly pulling him atop him, flush against his own warm body beneath the covers. Julien gave a soft gasp into Lucien’s mouth as he straddled his waist, feeling Lucien’s growing arousal beneath him. It was Lucien’s turn to utter a soft moan, and it was the first time Julien had heard such a sound from the man. It was absolutely delightful. 

Lifting his hands, he ran them through Lucien’s loose brunet hair, rolling his hips downwards and against Lucien’s. A low growl escaped the Speaker at the contact, and his hips rose to meet Julien’s. Parting from Lucien’s lips, Julien gave a soft pant, meeting Lucien’s dark, wanting gaze. 

Julien quickly pressed his lips against Lucien’s for a moment before his lips trailed along Lucien’s jawline, and Lucien tilted his head and exposed his neck as the Bosmer kissed downwards. Excitement sparked in Lucien as Julien his muscled chest, then moved lower still, kissing down his stomach and then below his navel. Lucien’s arousal gave a twitch of anticipation, and it was then that Julien met his eyes and pressed his lips against his cock head, sending a shiver of delight through all of Lucien, and a shuddered breath escaped his lips. 

A loud moan then followed as Julien suddenly took all of him into his mouth, giving a slow suck. Lucien reached down, taking a fistful of Julien’s dreaded red hair as he began thrusting into his wet, warm mouth. 

Julien moaned around his length, then pulled back, giving a long and hard suck at his head before releasing him with a popping sound. Lucien gave another visible shudder, looking at Lucien from under his dark lashes. Lucien pulled Julien up by his hair, leaning forward to meet him halfway, his lips crashing hungrily against the Bosmer’s. 

Julien kissed him desperately before parting from the kiss, opening dark emerald eyes and meeting Lucien’s sinful brown gaze.

“I want you, Lucien,” he breathed, combing his hands through Lucien’s soft hair. 

The Speaker gave a cocky smirk, hands sliding down from Julien’s hair to grip his thin hips. 

“Then have me,”

Reaching between their bodies, Julien took Lucien’s cock in his hand as he hovered over him. Lining the Speaker’s hard member up with his entrance, he slowly lowered himself onto him. A not so quiet moan escaped the both of them as Lucien stretched him and filled him up, until finally, he was all the way in. 

Lucien’s began thrusting upwards, into Julien’s warmth. Julien rolled his hips in time with Lucien’s slow thrusts, soft pants leaving the small Bosmer. Lucien watched as Julien rode him, his beautiful body moving atop his. His fair skin practically glowed in the candlelight, stretched over taut muscle and fine bones. He was so, so beautiful. 

Lucien wanted more.

Sitting up, Lucien kissed him hard, and gripped his thin hips even harder as he began thrusting hard and fast deep into Julien. The wood elf gasped against his mouth, head lolling back and eyes closing at the sheer pleasure. Lucien hammered into the small wood elf, soft and short cries leaving him each time Lucien hilted himself deep inside of him. 

“Gods, I love you, Lucien!” Julien cried out, then his head snapped forward as he realized what he’d just said, meeting Lucien’s brown eyes.

Something coursed through Lucien at those words, a powerful, wonderful feeling, and he moved on hand from Julien’s hip to his hair once more, pulling him forward roughly and smashing his lips against Julien’s. He pounded hard into him, those three words echoing in his mind over and over, fueling him as his heart hammered in his chest.

“Lucien, I’m-“ Julien gasped against his mouth, and before he could finish, Lucien thrusted into him once more, the Imperial giving a long and low moan as he came hard inside of him. Julien let out a cry, his orgasm hitting him hard. His back arched as he came upon Lucien’s chest, and the warm spurts hitting Lucien’s chest only made his climax more intense, rolling his hips forward and pushing himself as deep into Julien as he rode the waves of his orgasm, kissing the Bosmer hard. 

Finishing, Lucien kissed Julien languidly, vice-like grip on Julien’s hip easing up, and he slid his arm around Julien’s waist. Julien panted against Lucien’s lips, slowly kissing him back, then parting from him, slowly opening his emerald eyes and looking to Lucien. Before he could speak, Lucien gave a smile.

“And I love you, Julien,” he murmured, voice like velvet and warm like a hearth. 

Julien gave the toothiest grin Lucien had ever seen, and pulled him into a tight embrace. 

Lucien wrapped his arms tightly around Julien, pressing a kiss to the Bosmer’s smiling cheek. 

Parting from his embrace, Julien slowly pulled himself off of Lucien, a shiver chasing him as Lucien’s member left him. “Let’s clean up,” Julien chuckled, and Lucien too gave a low chuckle and a nod of agreement.

\---

After washing off together, the two climbed into bed, pulling the covers around each other. Julien lay with his back against Lucien’s chest, the Imperial’s strong arms draped over him. Lucien had fallen to sleep quickly, and from his blissful heaviness of his limbs, sleep was not far off for Julien, either. 

He’d never felt safer. He’d never felt happier. As he closed his eyes, a soft and content sigh left him.

This was good. 

This…

Was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the end, guys! Thank you for sticking by while I wrote this, and commenting words of praise and encouragement! This is my very first multi-chapter fic that I've finished, and I'm very proud to have gotten here. 
> 
> A special thanks to cccerebro and adamndremora for your comments! You have no idea how much your comments pushed me to continue and brightened my day!
> 
> Fun fact: each chapter is titled after songs from my favorite band, Placebo. Give them each a listen!
> 
> Again, thank you all so much! I hope you enjoyed the ride!


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